Stom  i^t  &i6tati^  of 
(pxoftBBOx  nriffidm  (Qtiffer  (J)a;rfon,  ©.©.,  &&.©. 

to  f  ^e  feifirari?  of 
(princefon  ^^eofogicaf  ^eminarjj 


(/^Hx   if 


POSTHUMOUS  WORKS 


REV.    JOHN    HARRIS,    D.D 


EDITED    BY    THE 


REV.  PHILLIP  SMITH,  B.  A., 

LATE  COLLEAGUE  OF  DR.  HARRIS  IN  CHESHUNT  COLLEGE,  AKD  III 
HEW  COLLEGE,  LONDON. 


PUBLISHED    BY 

GOULD     AND      LINCOLK, 

59   WASniNGTON   STKEET 


THE    GREAT    TEACHER;  or,  Characteristics  of  our  Lord's  Ministry.     Witli  an  Ictro- 
ductory  Essay  by  Uemaw  HuMPUEEy,  D.  D.    12mo,  cloth,    rrice  85  cents. 


II. 

THE    GREAT    COMMISSION;   or,  the  Christian  Church  constituted  and  charged  to 

convey  the  Gospel  to  the  worid.    A  Prize  Essay.    "With  an  Introductory  Essay  by 

"William  R.  Williams,  D.  D.   12nio,  cloth.   Price  $1.00. 


III. 

THE    PRE-ADAMITE    EARTH;   Contributions  to  Theological  Science.    New  and  Re- 
vised edition.     12mo,  cloth.     Price  $1.00. 


IV. 

MAN    PRIMEVAL;   or,  the  Constitution  and  Primitive  Condition  of  the  Human  Being. 
With  a  finely  engraved  Portrait  of  the  Author.    I2mo,  cloth,    Price  $1.25. 


PATRIARCHY;  or,  The  Family,  its  Constitution  and  Probation.     Contributions  to  Theo- 
logical Science.     12mo,  cloth.    Price  $1.25. 

Cv^  The  immense  sale  of  Dr.  Harris's  Works^  both  in  this  country  and  in  Europe,  attest 
their  intrinsic  worth  and  great  popularity,  (11) 


SERMONS 


ON 


SPECIAL    OCCASIONS 


BT 

REV.   JOHN ''HARRIS,  D.  D., 

late  pkesident  of  new  college,  london;  author  of  "the  gkaet  teachee,' 

"the  gkeax  commission,"  "pee-adamite  eaetu,"  "man  primeval," 

"  i'ateiakchy,"  etc.  etc. 


FIRST     SERIES. 


BOSTON: 


aOULD      AND      LINCOLN 

59     -W  A  S  H  I  N  G  X  0  N     STREET. 

NEW    YORK:    SHELDON,  BLAKEMAN   &    CO. 

CINCINNATI :    GEORGE  S.  BLANCHARD. 

1857. 


PRIN'TED  BY 

GEORGE   C.  RAND  &  AVERY. 


PEEFACE. 


The  Discourses  contained  in  this  volume  are  a  por- 
tion of  those  delivered  on  various  special  occasions 
during  the  period  of  their  lamented  Author's  highest 
reputation  as  a  Preacher. 

No  attempt  has  been  made  to  specify  the  places 
and  times  of  their  delivery.  The  subjects  treated, 
and  the  mode  of  treating  them,  raise  them  above 
the  limits  of  such  associations.  Most  of  them  will 
be  recognized,  from  their  own  internal  evidence,  as 
adapted  for  Missionary  services,  or  for  the  openings 
of  places  of  worship. 

They  are  arranged  in  an  order  v/hich,  it  is  hoped, 
will  exhibit  to  the  reader,  in  a  progressive  develop- 
ment, those  great  first  principles  of  Divine  truth  and 
evangelical  Christianity — beginning  in  the  perfec- 
tions  of   God,  and  culminating  in   the   glories  of 


VI  PREFACE. 

Christ — wliicli  the  Preacher  ever  made  the  sole 
foundation  of  his  appeals  for  personal  consecration 
and  entire  devotion  to  the  canse  of  the  Eedeemer. 

Only  two  points  have  caused  the  Editor  any  serious 
difficulty.  Some  passages  had  been  marked,  in  a 
slight  and  temporary  manner,  for  omission,  evidently 
for  no  other  reason  than  to  make  the  Sermon  shorter 
for  delivery.  Such  passages  are  generally  restored. 
Other  passages  were  found  to  have  been  repeated  in 
different  Sermons.  These  have  been  removed  from 
one  or  other  of  the  Discourses  in  which  they  occurred, 
when  they  were  of  considerable  length,  and  when 
they  could  be  spared  from  the  context.  But,  in  a 
few  cases,  where  the  repeated  passage  seemed  an 
essential  part  of  the  whole  argument,  the  Editor  has 
not  felt  himself  justified  in  mutilating  a  Sermon  to 
avoid  a  double  presentation  of  the  same  thoughts,  or 
even  the  same  words.  Such  repetitions  may  well  be 
borne  with  by  the  reader.  They  have  been  practised 
by  the  great  orators  of  all  ages  ;  and  much  instruc- 
tion may  be  derived  from  their  comparison  by  the 
reader  who  washes  to  form  a  critical  estimate  of  the 
Author's  work. 

But,  doubtless,  the  great  majority  of  readers  will 
receive  these  Discourses  in  far  other  than  a  critical 
spirit.  ]\Iany  will  thankfully  recognize,  and  thought- 
fully ponder,  the  truths  which  they  gladly  received 


PREFACE.  VU 

from  the  Preaclier  s  living  voice,  and  will  revive  the 
impression  of  his  fleeting  words.  Others  will  learn, 
for  the  first  time,  a  loart  of  the  source  of  his  repu- 
tation and  usefulness — would  that  the  other  elements 
of  fervour  and  power  could  be  embodied  in  these 
pages!  May  aU  share  in  those  emotions  of  glory  to 
God,  of  love  to  the  Saviour,  and  consecration  to  His 
cause  wliich  it  was  the  one  aim  of  the  Preacher — 
as  the  instrument  of  God's  Holy  Spirit — to  excite  in 
his  hearers'  hearts ! 


CONTENTS. 


SERMON  I. 

THE  GOSPEL  THE  POWER  OF  GOD  UNTO  SALVATION. 

EoM.  i.  16,  17 — "  For  I  am  not  ashamed  of  tlie  gospel  of  Christ :  for  it  is 
the  power  of  God  unto  salvation  to  every  one  that  believeth ;  to  the 
Jew  first,  and  also  to  the  Grreek.  For  therein  is  the  righteousness  of 
God  revealed  from  faith  to  faith  :  as  it  is  written,  The  just  shall  live 
by  faith."  ........ 


SERMON  II. 

THE  HIGH  AND  LOFTY  ONE  DWELLING  WITH  THE  CONTRITE  MAN. 

Isaiah  Ivii.  15 ;  Ixvi.  1,  2 — "  For  thus  saith  the  high  and  lofty  One  that 
inhabiteth  eternity,  whose  name  is  Holy ;  I  dwell  in  the  high  and 
holy  place,  with  him  also  that  is  of  a  contrite  and  humble  spirit,  to 
revive  the  spirit  of  the  humble,  and  to  revive  the  heart  of  the  contrite 
ones." — "Thus  saith  the  Lord,  The  heaven  is  my  throne,  and  the  earth 
is  my  footstool :  where  is  the  house  that  ye  build  unto  me  1  and  where 
is  the  place  of  my  rest  1  For  all  those  things  hath  mine  hand  made, 
and  all  those  things  have  been,  saith  the  Lord  :  but  to  this  man  will 
I  look,  even  to  him  that  is  poor  and  of  a  contrite  spirit,  and  trembleth 
at  my  word."    ....  .... 


SERMON  III. 

THE  CONDESCENDING  GOD. 

2  Chron,  vi.  18 — "  But  will  God  in  very  deed  dwell  with  men  on  the 
earth  1  Behold,  heaven  and  the  heaven  of  heavens  cannot  contain 
thee ;  how  much  less  this  house  which  I  have  built !  "  .  .64 


CONTENTS. 

SERMON  IV. 
god's  house  the  norsE  of  pkayer  for  all  people. 


PAGE 


Isaiah  Ivi.  7 — "  Mine  house  sliall  be  called  an  Louse  of  prayer  for  all 

l^eople."  .  .  .  .  .  .  ,  .80 

SERMON  V. 

THE  VOICE  OF  GOD'S  ETERNAL  WISDOM. 

Proverbs  riii.  30-36 — "  Then  I  v>'as  by  him,  as  one  brought  up  with 
him :  and  I  was  daily  his  delight,  rejoicing  always  before  him ;  re- 
joicing in  the  habitable  part  of  his  earth ;  and  my  delights  were  "v\ith 
the  sons  of  men.  Now  therefore  hearken  unto  me,  0  ye  children ; 
for  blessed  are  they  that  keep  my  ways.  Hear  instruction,  and  be 
wise,  and  refuse  it  not.  Blessed  is  the  man  that  heareth  me,  watch- 
ing daily  at  my  gates,  waiting  at  the  posts  of  my  doors.  For  whoso 
findeth  me  findeth  life,  and  shall  obtain  favour  of  the  Lord.  But  he 
that  sinneth  against  me  wrongeth  his  own  soul :  all  they  that  hate 
me  love  death."  .  .  .  .  .  .  .      103 

SERMON  VI. 

THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LORD  FROM  HEAVEN. 

1  Cor.  XV.  45-47 — "  And  so  it  is  written,  The  first  man  Adam  was 
made  a  living  soul ;  the  last  Adam  was  made  a  quickening  spirit. 
Howbeit  that  was  not  first  which  is  spiritual,  but  that  which  is 
natural ;  and  afterward  that  which  is  spiritual.  The  first  man  is  of 
the  earth,  earthy ;  the  second  man  is  the  Lord  from  heaven."  .      129 

SERMON  VII. 

THE  SON  INCARNATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OP  GOD. 

Heb.  X.  5-7 — "  Wherefore,  when  he  cometh  into  the  world,  he  saith. 
Sacrifice  and  offering  thou  wouldest  not,  but  a  body  hast  thou  pre- 
pared me  :  In  burnt-oiferings  and  sacrifices  for  sin  thou  hast  had  no 
pleasure.  Then  said  I,  Lo,  I  come  (in  the  volume  of  the  book  it  is 
written  of  me)  to  do  thy  will,  0  God."  ....      156 

SERMON  VIII. 

THE  FIELD  AND  HARVEST  OP  CHRISTIAN  LABOUR. 

John  iv.  34-38—''  Jesus  saith  unto  them,  IMy  meat  is  to  do  the  wUl  of 
him  that  sent  me,  and  to  finish  his  work.  Say  not  ye.  There  are  yet 
four  months,  and  then  cometh  harvest  \  behold,  I  say  unto  you.  Lift 
up  your  eyes,  and  look  on  the  fields ;  for  they  are  white  already  to 
harvest.  And  he  that  reapeth  receiveth  wages,  and  gathereth  fruit 
unto  life  eternal ;  that  both  he  that  soweth  and  he  that  reapeth  may 


CONTENTS.  Xi 

PAGE 

rejoice  together.  And  herein  is  that  saying  true,  One  soweth,  and 
another  reapeth.  I  sent  you  to  reap  that  v/hei-eon  ye  bestowed  no 
labour :  other  men  laboured,  and  ye  are  entered  into  their  labours."       180 

SERMON  IX. 

THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TRUE  MESSTAH. 

Luke  vii.  19-23 — ''And  John  calling  unto  him  two  of  his  disciples,  sent 
them  to  Jesus,  saying.  Art  thou  he  that  should  come,  or  look  we  for 
another?  When  the  men  were  come  to  him,  they  said,  John  Baptist 
hath  sent  us  unto  thee,  saying.  Art  thou  he  that  should  come,  or  look 
we  for  another  1  And  in  the  same  hour  he  cured  many  of  their  infir- 
mities and  plagues,  and  of  evil  spirits ;  and  unto  many  that  were 
blind  he  gave  sight.  Then  Jesus  answering  said  unto  them.  Go  your 
way,  and  tell  John  what  things  ye  have  seen  and  heard ;  how  that 
the  blind  see,  the  lame  walk,  the  lepers  are  cleansed,  the  deaf  hear, 
the  dead  are  raised,  to  the  poor  the  gospel  is  preached.  And  blessed 
is  he  whosoever  shall  not  be  offended  in  me."  -  .  .      211 

SERMON  X. 

Christ's  longing  for  the  completion  of  his  work. 

Luke  xii.  50 — "  I  have  a  baptism  to  be  baptized  with  ;  and  how  am  I 

straitened  till  it  be  accomplished ! "  .  ,  ,  .      235 

SERMON  XI. 

CHRIST  WEEPING  OVER  JERUSALEM. 

Luke  xix.  41,  42 — "And  when  he  was  come  near,  he  beheld  the  city,  and 
wept  over  it,  saying.  If  thou  hadst  known,  even  thou,  at  least  in  this 
thy  day,  the  things  which  belong  unto  thy  peace !  but  now  they  are 
hid  from  thine  eyes."  .......      260 

SERMON  XII. 

THE  REDEEMER  CONTEMPLATING  HIS  HOUR  AS  COME. 

John  xii.  27—*'  Now  is  my  soul  troubled ;  and  what  shall  I  say  ?  Father, 
save  me  from  this  hour  :  but  for  this  cause  came  I  unto  this  hour. 
Father,  glorify  thy  name!"      .  .  ....      276 

SERMON  XIIL 

Christ's  consecration  op  his  disciples  to  their  work. 

John  xvii.  18,  19 — "  As  thou  hast  sent  me  into  the  world,  even  so  have  I 
also  sent  them  into  the  world.  And  for  their  sakes  I  sanctify  my- 
self, that  they  also  might  be  sanctified  through  the  truth."   ,  .      296 


XU  CONTENTS. 


SERMON  XIV. 

THE  UNION  OP  THE  CHURCH  FOR  THE  CONVERSION  OP  THE  WORLD. 

PAGE 

John  xni.  20,  21 — "Neithei*  p'^y  I  for  these  alone,  but  for  them  also 
which  shall  believe  on  me  through  their  word  ;  that  they  all  may  be 
one ;  as  thou,  Father,  art  in  me,  and  I  in  thed,  that  they  also  may 
be  one  in  us :  that  the  world  may  believe  that  thou  hast  sent  me."         314 


SERMON  XV. 

PRAYER  FOR  CHRIST. 

Psalm  Ixxii.  15 — "And  he  shall  live;  and  to  him  shall  be  given  of  the 
gold  of  Sheba  :  prayer  also  shall  be  made  for  him  continually ;  and 
daily  shall  he  be  praised."        ......      341 


SEEMON  I. 

THE  GOSPEL  THE  POWER  OF  GOD  UNTO  SALTATION. 

Rom.  i.  IG,  17 — ^'•For  I  am  not  ashamed  of  the  gospel  of  Christ:  for  ii 
is  the  poicer  of  God  unto  salvation  to  every  one  that  helieveth ;'''' —\i 
is  that  through  wliicli  the  power  of  God  is  manifested  in  saving  every 
one  that  believes — "  <o  the  Jew  first''— to  him  it  is  offered  in  the  first 
instance—"  and  also  to  the  Greek''— or  Gentile.  "  For  therein  is  the 
righteousness  of  God  revealed  from  faith  to  faith" — therein  is  revealed 
to  our  faith  the  doctrine  of  justification,  or  acceptance  with  God — of 
interest  in  a  Divine  rioliteousness,  acquired  by  fliith  alone.  "  As  it  is 
tcritten"— in  the  Old  Testament—"  the  just  hy  faith  shall  live." 

Power  was  a  subject  welcome  and  familiar  to  tlie  Roman ; 
but  then  it  was  martial  power,  the  power  of  conquest  and 
destruction.  His  city  was  proudly  denominated  Strength  ; 
but  then  it  was  strength  to  resist  invasion,  and  to  wield  the 
sovereignty  of  the  sword.  By  its  very  constitution  the 
Eoman  State  was  nothing  else  than  a  well-organized  school 
of  -^ar — a  permanent  establishment  for  conquest.  Hence 
its  prophetic  symbol  was  a  beast  "  whose  teeth  were  of  iron^ 
and  his  nails  of  brass;"  and  of  this  monster-power  it  wa? 
predicted,  "it  shall  devour  the  whole  earth,  and  shall  trear 
it  down,  and  break  it  in  pieces." 

Here,  however,  the  apostle  speaks  of  the  advent  of  a  dif 
ferent  kind  of  power — of  a  comparatively  new  thing  in  th; 
earth — a  benevolent  power — a  power,  not  to  destroy,  but  tc 
save — "  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation."  And,  what  must 
have  appeared  equally  novel — the  apostle  describes  the  in- 
strument of  this  saving  power   as  consisting  simj^ly  in   e 

A 


2  THE  COSPEL  THE  PO\YER  OF 

truth  or  iirinciple  to  be  believed.  For  the  doctrine  of  the 
text  is  this,  that  the  salvation  of  men  can  be  effected  by  the 
Gospel  alone — and  that  the  saving  power  of  the  Gospel  lies 
in  the  Cross — in  the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  in  a 
crucified  Redeemer. 

Now,  we  shall  probably  illustrate  this  idea  by  .shewing, 
that  of  all  powerful  things,  thouglits,  opinions,  or  doctrines 
— things  to  be  believed  and  acted  on — are  the  most  power- 
ful : — that  of  all  opinions  or  doctrines,  those  partaking  of  a 
moral  or  spiritual  nature  are  the  most  powerful : — that  of 
all  such  doctrines,  Christian  doctrine,  or  the  Gospel,  is  the 
most  powerful: — that  of  all  the  doctrines  of  the  Gospel,  the 
mightiest  is  the  doctrine  of  justification  hy  faith  in  Christ : 
— and  that  the  persuasion  of  this  fact  should  induce  us  cor- 
dially to  embrace  it,  and  earnestly  to  promote  its  diffusion 
among  others. 

I. 

First,  then,  we  have  to  shew  that  of  all  pov/erftd  things, 
ideas  or  doctrines — things  to  be  believed  and  acted  on — are 
the  most  powerful.  This  is  not  the  genera.1  opinion  of  power. 
In  our  ordinary  notions  of  power,  Ave  are  apt  to  associate 
with  it  ideas  of  brute  force — of  large  masses  of  men  or  of 
matter  bearing  doAvn  all  before  them  by  mere  physical 
might.  .  The  explosion  of  a  globe  like  our  own,  for  instance, 
could  we  witness  such  an  event,  would  give  us  a  sublime 
idea  of  the  power  which  effected  it.  But  the  man  of  intelli- 
gent reflection  is  av/are,  that  the  power  which  prevents  such 
an  explosion  is  mightier  still.  Power  is  calm,  regular,  and 
majestic  in  its  movements.  It  can  afford  to  be  so.  It  does 
not  need  to  be  noisy,  anxious,  hasty.  These  are  signs  of 
weakness.  Power  speaks,  and  it  is  done — commands,  and 
it  stands  fast  for  ever.  The  utter  breaking  up  and  destruc- 
tion of  the  material  universe  would  be  nothing,  as  a  display 
of  i)0wer,  compared  with  the  might  of  that  influence  by  which 
the  great  system  is  at  this  moment  noiselessly  ui^held,  and 


GOD  UNTO  SALVATION.  3 

eacli  of  its  iinuiimberecl  worlds  kept  in  its  miglity  patliway 
tliroiigli  boundless  space. 

On  the  same  principle,  all  the  great  changes  of  society  are 
produced — not  by  laws,  kings,  or  armies,  as  is  generally  sup- 
posed, and  as  popular  history  would  have  it  believed  : — they 
are  produced  by  the  operation  of  a  power  stronger  than  all 
these — a  jpower  which  no  fires  can  burn,  no  armies  destroy — 
but  which  is  able  itself  to  extinguish  the  one  and  to  annihi- 
late the  other — the  power  of  thought,  of  opinions,  and  prin- 
ciples. These  are  the  true  sovereigns  of  the  world — the 
empire  of  the  world  has,  in  a  sense,  been  given  to  them; 
and  all  other  forms  of  power  are  only  their  creatures.  The 
strongest  law  is  only  a  certain  idea  taking  the  form  of  a  rule, 
and  enforcing  itself  by  sanctions  ;  and  the  most  powerful 
army  that  ever  devastated  the  earth  was  only  a  thought  or 
principle  embodied,  armed,  and  bent  on  triumphing  by  vio- 
lence. And  as  opinions  and  principles  are  the  most  mighty, 
so  are  they  the  most  enduring  things.  What  will  eventually 
l^e  known  of  the  last  great  conqueror  who  quitted  the  earth. 
Napoleon,  but  that  he  enacted  a  code  of  laws  ?  Time  has 
already  proved,  as  he  himself  jDroudly  foretold,  that  his  laws 
w^ould  be  remembered  when  his  victories  were  foro^otten. 
What  do  we  now  know,  or  possess,  of  most  of  the  great 
nations  of  antiquity,  but  some  of  their  thoughts  ?  These, 
transmitted  in  books,  are  living,  and  are  moving  society  still. 
Alexander,  indeed,  astounded  and  conquered  the  world,  and 
his  name  fills  a  vast  space  in  its  subsequent  history.  But 
while  the  earth  was  resounding  with  his  exploits,  Aristotle, 
his  tutor,  was  silently  achieving  the  mightier  conquest  of  the 
human  mind.  The  Macedonian  empire  was  soon  dismem- 
bered and  extinct ;  but  the  mental  empire  of  the  philosopher 
continued  vigorous  and  entire  for  more  than  tv/o  thousand 
years,  and  is  far  from  being  destroyed  yet. 

II. 

But,  secondly,  of  all  the  thoughts  or  jDrincij^les  w^hich  agi- 


4  THE  GOSPEL  THE  TOWER  OF 

tate  and  revolutionize  society,  the  miglitiest  are  those  which 
partake  of  a  moral  or  spiritual  nature.  They  are  then  based 
on  all  that  is  most  profound  and  central  in  human  nature, 
and  draw  to  themselves  the  whole  depth  and  mass  of  our 
being. 

A  spiritual  truth  is  greater  than  a  throne,  and  subverts 
thrones.  It  has  a  throne  of  its  o^^ai  in  the  spirit  and  souls 
of  men.  "  There  is  no  power  on  earth" — said  one  of  the 
greatest  of  men — "  that  setteth  up  a  throne  or  chair  of  state 
in  the  spirits  or  souls  of  men,  but  this  only."  It  has  then  a 
throne  of  its  own — God  Himself  deigns  to  sit  in  it,  and  to 
suspend  His  sceptre  over  it.  From  that  lofty  and  guarded 
ocat,  where  none  can  return  the  blow,  truth  strikes  and  assails 
as  from  heaven.  And  as  it  enlists  in  its  cause  the  spiritual 
and  unwearied  part  of  humanity — that  part  of  our  nature 
which  cannot  be  fatigued — it  needs  no  pause,  allows  no  truce, 
entails  its  quarrel  from  generation  to  generation.  Better 
for  its  foes  to  encounter  an  army  than  a  truth ;  that  they 
might  annihilate,  but  this  is  immortal — this  gathers  strength 
from  conflict,  authority  from  suffering,  final  victory  from 
present  defeat.  Hence  the  fierce,  the  unforgiving,  the  un- 
dying hatred  they  have  poured  out  on  the  person,  the  ashes, 
the  memory  of  its  champions — especially  of  its  first  cham- 
pions— not  merely  killing  them  piecemeal,  but  hunting  for 
their  bones  years  after  to  reduce  them  to  ashes,  and  blacken- 
ing their  memory  with  the  most  concentrated  venom  of 
infernal  malice. 

But  what  to  Truth  was  this  ?  At  the  stake  she  becomes 
an  oracle — gives  to  her  mart}Ts  joys  stronger  than  fire — and 
speaks  to  tlie  sympathies  of  the  multitude  in  tones  of  autho- 
rity which  drown  the  logic  of  the  schools.  At  the  moment 
of  her  supposed  defeat — like  her  Lord,  "  the  Truth" — she  is 
in  the  sepulchre  putting  on  her  panoply  for  tlie  final  fight. 
The  car  of  persecution  rolls  on,  fimcying  that  she  is  dead — • 
when,  lo,  at  the  moment  she  was  supposed  to  be  festering  in 
her  shroud,  she  speaks  to  it  from  heaven,  out  of  the  midst 


GOD  UNTO  SALVATION.  5 

of  a  light  brighter  "than  that  of  the  midday  sun — arrests  its 
progress,  disarms  its  warriors,  and  enlists  them  as  chamj^ions 
in  her  own  service. 

A  oiorious  tbino'  is  a  great  spiritual  truth — and  an  event- 
ful  moment  is  that  in  which  it  makes  its  advent  among  a 
l^eople ;  and  mighty  is  he  to  whom  it  first  comes,  or  hy  whom 
it  first  speaks  to  them — mightier,  not  than  ten  men  merely 
that  have  it  not,  or  than  ten  thousand;  but  than  all  men  that 
have  it  not.  Such  a  man  was  Luther  ;  he  uttered  a  truth — 
a  simple  truth — and  the  Papal  throne  has  never  since  ceased 
to  tremble  with  the  vibration.  Such  a  man  v^as  Huss.  And 
such  a  man,  more  pre-eminent  than  all,  was  our  own  Wick- 
liffe,  whose  opinions  still  gather  strength,  and  go  on  smiting 
and  shivering  to  pieces  more  than  one  image  of  iron  and 
brass.  And  such  a  man  is  the  Christian  minister  or  mission- 
ary who  first  takes  the  Gospel  into  a  heathen  land.  He  who 
first  brought  the  Gospel  to  Britain  did  more  than  Csesar ;  the 
Roman  power  soon  passed  away  from  amongst  us  :  but  the 
power  of  the  Truth  remains  ;  and  ~  our  history  ever  since  it 
came  has  in  fact  been  nothing  but  the  history  of  that  truth, 
struggling  for  its  right  place  and  jDower  among  us. 

III. 

Now,  this  reminds  us,  thirdly,  that,  of  all  moral  or  spiritual 
truth,  Christian  truth  is  the  most  powerful.  Examine  its 
history,  and  you  will  find  that  even  wliere  Christianity  has, 
for  obvious  reasons,  produced  but  slender  spiritual  results, 
the  inferior  benefits  which  it  has  scattered  have  rendered  its 
progress  through  the  nations  as  traceable  as  the  overflowing 
of  the  Nile  is  by  the  rich  deposit  and  the  consequent  fertility 
which  it  leaves  behind.  This  is  a  v/ell-known  subject  of  de- 
vout exultation  in  many  of  the  inspired  ej^istles.  The  apologies 
of  the  fathers  prove  it,  and  the  records  of  profane  history 
imintentionally  but  abundantly  confirm  it.  Virtue  went  out 
of  it  in  every  age,  and  wherever  it  came.  The  Roman  emj^ire 
was  rushing  to  ruin;  Christianity  arrested  its  descent,  and 


C  THE  GOSPEL  THE  POWER  OF 

broke  its  fall.  Nearly  all  the  tribes  of  Europe  were  sitting 
at  a  feast  on  human  flesh,  or  immolating  human  victims  to 
their  gods.  It  called  them  away  from  the  horrid  repast,  and 
extinguished  their  unholy  fires.  The  northern  invasion  poured 
a  new  world  of  barbarism  over  Christian  lands.  The  spirit 
of  Christianity  brooded  over  the  chaotic  mass,  and  gradually 
gave  to  it  the  forms  of  civilized  life.  Where  it  could  not 
sheathe  the  sword  of  war,  it  at  least  humanized  the  dreadful 
art.  It  found  the  servant  a  slave,  and  broke  his  chains.  It 
found  the  poor — the  mass  of  mankind — trampled  under  foot, 
and  it  tauo^ht  them  to  stand  erect  by  addressino:  whatever  is 
divine  in  their  degraded  nature.  It  found  woman — one-half 
of  the  species — in  the  dust,  and  it  extended  its  protecting 
arm  to  her  weakness,  and  raised  and  placed  her  by  the  side 
of  man.  Sickly  infancy  and  infirm  old  age  were  cast  out  to 
perish;  it  passed  by  and  bade  them  live,  preparing  for  each 
a  home,  and  becoming  the  tender  nurse  of  both.  Yes, 
Christianity  found  the  heathen  world  without  a  single  house 
of  mercy.  Go,  search  the  Byzantine  chronicles  and  the  pages 
of  Publius  Victor,  and  though  the  one  describes  all  the  public 
edifices  of  ancient  Constantinople,  and  the  other  of  ancient 
Eome,  not  a  word  is  to  be  found  in  either  of  a  purely  chari- 
table institution.  Go,  search  the  ancient  marbles  in  your 
museums,  cpiestion  the  many  travellers  who  have  visited  the 
ruined  cities  of  Greece  and  Eome,  and  descend  and  ransack 
the  graves  of  Herculaneum  and  Pompeii,  and  say,  if,  amidst 
all  the  splendid  remains  of  statues  and  amphitheatres — temples, 
afpieducts,  and  palaces — mausoleums,  columns,  and  triumphal 
arche.s — a  single  fragment  or  inscription  has  been  found  tell- 
ing us  that  it  belonged  to  a  refuge  for  human  want,  or  for 
the  alleviation  of  human  misery.  The  first  voluntary  and 
public  collection  ever  known  to  have  been  made  in  the  heathen 
world  for  a  charitable  ol)ject  was  made  by  the  churches  of 
IMaccdonia  for  the  poor  saints  in  Jerusalem.  The  first  indi- 
vidual who  built  an  hosjjital  for  the  poor  was  a  Christian 
widow.     Go,  search  the  lexicons  for  interpreting  the  ancient 


GOD  UNTO  SALVATION.  7 

Greek  authors,  and  yoii  will  not  find  even  the  names  which 
divine  Christianity  wanted  by  which  to  designate  her  houses 
of  charity:  she  had  to  invent  them.  Language  had  never 
been  called  on  to  embody  such  conceptions  of  mercy.  All 
the  asylums  of  the  earth  belong  to  her. 

And  be  it  remembered  that  Christianity  has  accomiDlished 
much  of  this  under  circumstances  the  most  unfriendly  to 
success.  As  yet  it  has  had  but  a  very  limited  influence,  even 
in  what  are  denominated  Christian  countries.  But  yet, 
while  bleeding  herself  at  a  thousand  pores,  she  has  saved 
whole  tribes  from  extermination,  and  comparatively  stanched 
the  flow  of  human  blood.  Though  a  prisoner  herself,  and 
walking  in  chains,  she  has  yet  gone  through  the  nations,  pro- 
claiming liberty  to  the  captive,  and  the  opening  of  the  prison 
to  them  that  are  bound.  Even  when  Popery  had  converted 
her  creed  into  a  libel  on  her  name,  that  creed  yet  contained 
truths  which  eclipsed  the  wisdom  of  Greece,  and  which  con- 
signed the  mythology  of  Rome  to  the  amusement  and  ridicule 
of  childhood.  Even  there,  where  her  character  was  most  mis- 
understood, so  high  had  she  raised  the  standard  of  morals, 
that  Socrates,  the  boast  of  Greece,  would  have  been  deemed 
impure,  and  Titus,  the  darling  of  Eome  and  of  mankind, 
would  have  been  denounced  as  a  monster  of  cruelty.  When 
disfio;ured  to  a  de^Tce  which  would  have  made  it  difiicult  for 
her  great  apostle  to  have  recognised  her,  yet,  like  him,  she 
went  about  "as  poor,  yet  making  many  rich;  as  having 
nothing,  and  yet  possessing  all  things."  Herself  the  victim 
of  universal  selfishness,  she  yet  left  on  every  shore  which  she 
visited  everlasting  monuments  that  she  had  been  there,  in  the 
hospitals  and  edifices  of  charity  which  lifted  up  their  heads, 
and  in  the  softe-ning  and  healing  influences  which  stole  over 
the  heart  of  society. 

2.  But  why  do  we  speak  of  other  lands?  Britain  itself  owes 
everything,  under  God,  to  the  influence  of  the  Gospel.  The 
cruelties  of  Rome  did  not  humanize,  nor  the  northern  super- 
stitions  enlighten  us.     The  missionary  who  first  trod  our 


8  THE  GOSPEL  THE  POWER  OF 

shores  found  himself  stanclmg  in  the  very  temj^le  of  Drnidism; 
and  wherever  he  turned,  he  heard  the  din  of  its  noisy  festi- 
vals, saw  the  obscenity  of  its  lascivious  rites,  and  beheld  its 
animal  and  human  victims.  But  Christianity  had  marked 
the  island  for  its  own.  And  although  its  lofty  purposes  are 
yet  far  from  being  worked  out  on  us,  from  that  eventful  mo- 
nient  to  the  present  the  various  parts  of  our  social  system 
have  been  risino-  too-ether.  Even  when  most  at  rest,  its 
influence  has  been  silently  penetrating  the  heart  of  society. 
When  most  enfeebled  and  corrupted  itself,  its  morality  has 
been  checking  the  progress  of  our  social  corruption,  rendering 
power  more  protective  and  law  more  righteous.  ^Yhen  most 
disguised  and  repressed,  its  wisdom  has  been  modifying  our 
philosophy  and  teaching  a  loftier  system  of  its  ovni.  A  Howard, 
sounding  and  circumnavigating  the  ocean  of  human  misery, 
is  only  an  obedient  agent  of  its  philanthropy.  A  Clarkson 
and  a  Wilberforce  have  only  given  utterance  to  its  tender  and 
righteous  appeals  for  the  slave.  A  Raikes,  a  Bell,  and  a  Lan- 
caster have  simply  remembered  its  long-neglected  injunction, 
"  Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto  me;''  while  all  its  Sab- 
baths, Bibles,  and  direct  evangelical  ministrations  are  only 
the  appropriate  instrumentality  by  which  it  has  ever  been 
seeking  to  become  the  power  of  God  to  our  salvation,  and 
preparing  us  for  the  office  to  which  Providence  is  now  dis- 
tinctly calling  us — to  be  the  Christian  ministers  and  mission- 
aries of  mankind. 

3.  But  why  speak  we  of  what  the  Gospel  has  done?  At  this 
moment  it  is  doing  for  other  lands  what  it  has  done  for  us. 
Rej)air  to  the  distant  missionary  held,  and  we  can  j^oint  out  to 
you  happy  homes  and  peaceful  villages  rising  amidst  wastes 
where  lately  man  roamed,  restless  and  ferocious  as  the  beasts 
with  which  he  contended  for  supremacy ;  to  multitudes,  whose 
hands  were  but  yesterday  red  with  the  blood  of  their  fellows, 
now  diligently  busied  in  the  arts  of  civilized  life;  to  thousands 
of  children  and  adults,  trooping  to  their  respective  schools, 
where,  a  short  time  ago,  all  the  visible  signs  of  a  language 


GOD  UNTO  SALVATION.  9 

were  utterly  unknown ;  to  organized  societies  and  tlie  reign 
of  law,  where,  but  recently,  to  be  lawless  was  reckoned  essen- 
tial to  enjoyment,  and  to  kill  at  pleasure  the  highest  prero- 
gative; to  sober,  honest,  highly  moralized  countries,  where 
lately  rage  and  intemperance  revelled  at  will ;  to  tribes 
which,  till  lately,  never  met  but  for  mutual  destruction,  but 
whose  intercourse  now  consists  entirely  in  the  reciprocation  of 
benefits  and  tokens  of  love;  to  the  animalized  savaare  actinof 
the  man ;  to  the  debased  slave  now  walking  at  large  as  an 
heir  of  freedom;  to  degraded  woman  raised  from  the  dust 
and  restored  to  be  the  partner  of  man;  to  hundreds  of 
thousands  rescued  from  the  curse  of  the  darkest  idolatry, 
brought  into  the  light  of  truth,  and  surrounded  with  the 
means  of  social  improvement  and  unending  happiness !  What 
vast  tracts  has  it  rescued  from  barbarism,  and  with  what 
creations  of  benevolence  has  it  clothed  them!  How  many 
thousands,  whom  ignorance  and  selfishness  had  branded  as 
the  leavings  and  refuse  of  the  S2:>ecies,  if  not  actually  akin  to 
the  beasts  that  perish,  are  at  this  moment  rising  under  its 
fostering  care,  ascribing  their  enfranchisement,  under  God,  to 
its  benign  interj^osition,  taking  encouragement  from  its 
smiles  to  assume  the  port  and  bearing  of  men,  and  by  their 
acts  and  aspirations  retrieving  the  character  and  dignity  of 
the  slandered  human  form !  When  did  literature  accomplish 
so  much  for  nations  destitute  of  a  written  language?  or 
education  pierce  and  light  \v^  so  large  and  dense  a  mass  of 
human  ignorance?  When  did  liumanity  save  so  many  lives, 
or  cause  so  many  sanguinary  ''wars  to  cease''?  How  many 
a  sorrow  has  it  soothed — how  many  an  injury  arrested — and 
how  many  an  asylum  has  it  reared,  amidst  scenes  of  wretch- 
edness and  oppression,  for  the  orphan,  the  outcast,  and  the 
sufferer !  When  did  liberty  ever  rejoice  in  a  greater  triumph 
than  that  which  Christian  instrumentality  has  been  the 
means  of  achieving?  or  civilization  find  so  many  sons  of  the 
wilderness  learning  her  arts,  and  agriculture,  and  commerce? 
or  laiu  receive  so  much  voluntary  homage  from  those  who 


10  THE  GOSPEL  THE  POWEE  OF 

but  j^csterday  were  strangers  to  the  name?  By  erecting  a 
standard  of  morality,  how  vast  the  amount  of  crime  which  it 
has  been  the  means  of  preventing !  By  asserting  the  claims 
of  degraded  woman,  how  j^owerfid  an  instrument  of  social 
regeneration  is  it  preparing  for  the  future !  And  by  doing  all 
this  by  the  j^rincij^le  and  power  of  all  moral  order  and  excel- 
lence— the  Gospel  of  Christ — how  large  a  portion  of  the 
world's  chaos  has  that  instrumentality  restored  to  light,  and 
harmony,  and  j^eace ! 

IV. 

But  all  this,  you  will  say,  only  proves  that  the  Gospel  is 
the  power  of  God  to  the  civilization — to  the  social  improve- 
ment— to  the  temporal  salvation  of  man,  whereas  the  text 
contemplates  the  salvation  of  the  soul.  We  admit  it.  And 
what,  we  ask — what  must  the  fruit  of  that  tree  be,  the  very 
leaves  of  which  are  so  elBcacious  for  the  healing  of  the 
nations  ?  What  must  be  the  full  migJit  of  that  benevolent 
principle,  of  which  all  this  is  only,  in  a  sense,  the  accidental 
effect  ?  And  what  must  be  the  nature  of  that  doctrine,  the 
result  of  which  when  truly  believed  throws  all  these  temporal 
results  into  the  shade  ?  Now,  this  reminds  us,  fourthly,  that 
of  all  the  truths  to  be  found  in  the  Gospel,  the  doctrine  of  the 
Cross — or  of  justification  by  faith  in  the  atoning  sacrifice  of 
Christ — is  the  mightiest.  As  we  have  just  seen,  its  benevolent 
morality  may  be  mighty — may  check  unnumbered  evils,  un- 
veil the  deformity  of  vice,  restore  the  lost  influence  of  shame, 
and  thus  gradually  diminish  crime,  and  raise  the  moral  tone 
of  society.  But  man  wants  more  than  this.  He  may  be 
moralized,  without  being  converted;  and  he  needs  conver- 
sion— salvation.  The  text  both  implies  this,  and  provides 
for  it.  For,  in  saying  that  "  the  Gospel  is  the  power  of  God 
unto  salvation,"  what  is  it  but  implying  that  there  is  an 
antagonist  power  at  work  in  the  world — the  power  of  Satan 
to  destruction  ?  reminding  us  of  the  terrible  might  of  that 
power,  since  nothing  less  than  the  power  of  God  is  regarded 


GOD  UNTO  SALVATION.  H 

as  a  matcli  for  it.  So  that  if  the  Gospel  be  so  potent  as  to 
deserve  to  be  called  nothing  less  than  tlie  2^0 wer  of  God  to 
salvation,  it  is  just  because  sin  is  so  mighty  as  the  power  of 
Satan  to  destruction. 

And  here  be  it  carefully  remarked  that  the  doctrine  of 
the  Cross  triumphs,  not  in  the  same  way  as  other  kinds  of 
truth  produce  their  results — by  its  mere  fitness  to  convince 
the  judgment,  and  approve  itself  to  the  mind.  AVe  believe, 
indeed,  that  the  Gospel  has  this  fitness — that  light  is  not 
more  suited  to  the  eye  than  the  entire  system  of  evangelical 
truth  is  exquisitely  adapted  to  the  original  principles  of 
human  nature ;  and  we  believe  that,  owing  to  this  inherent 
adaptation  alone,  the  Gospel  can  produce  the  mightiest  moral 
results — all  that  temporal  and  social  improvement  of  which 
we  have  been  speaking — without  the  aid  of  any  special  super- 
natural influence ;  and  w^e  believe  that  because  of  this  inherent 
adaptation  it  is  that  God  employs  it  to  produce  the  great 
spiritual  result  of  salvation.  But  then,  we  believe  that,  in 
the  production  of  this  result,  its  mere  adajDtation  alone  w^ould 
leave  it  quite  impotent ;  that  here  it  encounters  a  kind  and  a 
degree  of  resistance  which  renders  a  Divine  agency  indispen- 
sable ;  that  here  the  influence  of  the  Sj^irit  comes  into  oj^era- 
tion  ;  and  that  on  this  account  it  is  called  the  power  of  God, 
because  God  alone  renders  it  j)owerful  to  salvation. 

But  before  we  j^i^oceed  to  shew  that  the  Gospel  is  thus 
mighty,  the  text  suggests  two  or  three  j^revious  inquiries: — 

1.  What  is  the  secret  of  its  saving  influence?  In  other 
words,  what  is  that  adaptation  by  which  it  operates  in  the 
hand  of  the  S23irit  on  the  mind  of  the  sinner,  so  as  to  restore 
him  to  holiness  ?  The  apostle  replies  by  saying,  that  "  therein 
is  the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  revealed  to  faith.'' 

Now,  in  attempting  to  shew  how  this  doctrine  j^roduces 
this  result,  it  is  somewhat  disheartening  to  reflect  that  we 
are  speaking  to  those  to  whom  the  subject  has  necessarily 
become  comparatively  trite,  and  every  mode  of  j)resenting  it 
perfectly  familiar.     The  very  facility  with  which  the  under- 


1 2  THE  GOSPEL  THE  POWER  OP 

standing  aj^preliencls  our  meaning,  and  the  readiness  with 
which  the  judgment  admits  it,  allows  no  time  for  the 
sublime  truth  to  settle  do^vn  upon  the  heart.  In  order, 
therefore,  to  do  anything  like  justice  to  the  subject,  it  is 
necessary  that  the  individual  supposed  to  be  subjected  to  the 
influence  in  question  should  be  taken,  not  from  among  our- 
selves, but  from  a  region  where  the  power,  and  even  the 
name  of  the  Gospel  is  unknown.  Christianity  is  the  only 
successful  antagonist  which  sin  has  ever  encountered.  In 
order,  therefore,  to  exliibit  its  influence  fully, .  he  should  be 
taken  from  the  darkness  and  distance  of  nature,  where  sin 
had  operated  on  him  unchecked,  working  out  all  its  deadly 
eff'ects,  and  reducing  him  to  its  dreadful  purposes  ;  and  he 
should  be  brought  with  all  his  depravity  and  guilt  upon  him 
into  the  full  light  and  under  the  direct  power  of  the 
Gospel. 

Now,  in  this  state  he  is  chiefly  assailable  at  three  points. 
Entrenched  and  fortified  in  evil  as  he  may  appear  to  be, 
there  are  yet  three  sides,  so  to  speak,  on  which  ho  may  be 
approached  with  irresistible  eff"ect, — his  immortality,  his 
guilt,  and  his  infinite  danger.  These  are  subjects  relating 
to  parts  and  principles  of  his  nature  which  an  unthinking 
world  overlooks, — it  has  little  or  nothing  by  which  it  could 
appeal  to  them  if  it  would, — and  yet  they  lie  at  the  very 
foundation  of  his  constitution.  So  that  whoever  shall  suc- 
ceed in  making  him  sensible  of  his  immortality,  in  alarm- 
ing his  conscience  to  the  danger  to  which  all  that  immortality 
is  exposed  by  sin,  and  then  in  delivering  him  from  the 
whole,  will  necessarily  acquire  a  master  influence  over  his 
whole  nature  for  ever.  Now,  the  Gospel  does  this.  It  does 
not  afl'ect  a  part  of  his  nature  merely.  It  does  not  operate 
superficially  on  the  senses ;  nor  convince  his  judgment,  and 
leave  his  heart  uninterested  ;  nor  move  his  passions  merely, 
to  the  neglect  of  his  judgment  and  his  will.  It  goes  in  and 
down  to  the  depths  of  his  nature.  It  goes  directly  to  move 
that  which  moves  the  whole  man. 


GOD  UNTO  SALVATION.  13 

The  world  hides  a  man  from  himself, — conceals  from  him 
the  most  important  part  of  his  nature.  By  shutting  out  the 
prospect  of  eternity,  he  loses  sight  of  his  immortality ;  and 
by  constantly  appealing  to  his  senses,  and  thus  keeping  in 
exercise  only  the  inferior  part  of  his  nature,  he  tends  to  settle 
down  into  a  mere  creature  of  time.  But  the  first  effect, 
perhaps,  which  the  Gospel  produces  is  to  reveal  him  to  him- 
self By  coming  to  him  as  a  message  from  another  world, 
he  starts  into  a  consciousness  of  his  relation  to  that  world ; 
and  by  addressing  itself  to  the  spiritual  part  of  his  nature, 
he  becomes  sensible,  however  vaguely  at  first,  that  he  is  in 
some  way  related  to  the  spiritual,  the  infinite,  and  the  eter- 
nal. Now,  it  is  obvious  how  this  very  first  impression,  by 
throwing  open,  if  I  may  so  say,  a  part  of  the  temple  of  his 
nature,  which  had  been  hitherto  shut  up — the  very  sanctuary 
containing  the  symbol  of  Divinity — prepares  him  to  receive 
with  deep  effect  every  other  communication  which  may  come 
to  him  from  the  same  quarter. 

Not  only  does  the  world  conceal  from  a  man  his  spiritual 
and  immortal  nature,  by  allowing  it  to  fall  into  disuse, — it 
tends,  also,  to  merge  the  fact  of  his  individual  accountable- 
ness — his  distinct  personal  responsibility.  From  living  in 
society,  and  finding  his  interests  and  relations  inseparably 
complicated  with  those  of  others,  he  comes  to  think  of  him- 
self only  as  an  undistinguishable  part  of  a  great  whole. 
He  loses  himself  in  the  crowd.  But  the  Gospel  indi- 
vidualizes and  detaches.  It  tells  him  of  a  law  by  which  all 
the  laws  of  society  are  themselves  to  be  judged,  but  of 
which  his  life  has  been  an  unceasing  violation — of  a  hook  in 
which  his  personal  history  is  recorded  moment  by  moment 
— of  a  Being  who  can  disentangle  and  detach  him  from  all 
his  complicated  relations,  and  assign  to  his  every  thought 
and  word  its  precise  character — and  of  a  place  and  a 
punishment  so  exactly  and  necessarily  resulting  from  his 
guilt,  and  proportioned  to  it,  that  he  is  the  only  being  in  the 
universe  to  whom  they  could  be  assigned.     The  only  way, 


14j  the  gospel  the  powee  of 

therefore,  in  wliieli  it  can  treat  with  liim  is  in  person.  It  lays 
its  awakening  and  arresting  hand  on  his  personal  conscience. 
It  demands  a  personal  interview — a  conference  in  the  centre 
of  his  natnre.  It  brings  forward  his  guilt  into  the  strong 
light  of  distinct  consciousness.  Even  if  the  Gospel  allowed 
him  to  act  by  another,  his  own  conscience  is  nov/  too  deeply 
interested  to  permit  it.  All  his  faculties  and  powers  seem 
collected  into  a  point — the  entire  soul  becomes  conscience  ; 
and  all  that  conscience  is  against  Lim — accuser,  witness,  and 
judge.  As  if  the  judgment  had  been  set,  and  the  books 
opened  ;  as  if  his  j^ersonal  case  were  already  adjudged,  his 
doom  pronounced,  and  he  himself  suspended  over  the  bottom- 
less gulf — he  feels  that  he  is  lost.  His  nature  is  now  stirred 
to  its  depths,  and  his  soul  is  one  region  of  alarm.  Mere 
sympathy  now  will  receive  his  deep,  deep  gratitude — deliver- 
ance would  secure  his  heart  for  ever.  The  being  who  shall 
now  arrive  to  his  rescue  will  infallibly  acquire  an  influence 
over  the  whole  man,  and  may  calculate  on  his  allegiance  for 
ever. 

To  ask  if  the  world,  or  any  person  or  j^ower  belonging  to 
it,  can  extend  the  aid  wliich  the  crisis  demands,  would  be 
sheer  impertinence.  That  is  the  very  power  which  has 
brought  on  the  crisis,  and  from  which  he  rec[uires  to  be 
rescued.  So  completely  is  he  now  detached  from  it  in  heart 
and  hope,  that  he  turns  round,  and  looks  back  on  it,  with 
wonder  at  its  infatuation,  aversion  for  its  sins,  and  yearning 
pity  for  its  state.  The  cloud  which  threatens  him  with 
its  bolt  impends  also  over  it.  What  must  he  do  to  be 
saved  ? 

In  the  absence  of  all  the  objects  he  has  been  accustomed 
to  confide  in — in  the  clear  and  oj^en  space  which  their  witli- 
drawment  has  left  around  him,  behold  the  Cross  !  All  the 
forms  of  terror  and  ministers  of  justice  which  his  sins  had 
armed  against  him,  blend  and  melt  into  a  form  of  love  dying 
for  his  rescue  !  The  Crois  has  received  the  lii^htnino's  of  the 
impending  cloud,  and  has  painted  upon  it  the  bow  of  hope. 


GOD  UNTO  SALVATION.  15 

To  his  anxious  inquiry,  what  he  must  do  to  be  saved — the 
Cross  echoes  back,  Be  saved ;  and  every  object  around  him 
joyfully  repeats,  saved  !  Then  God  is  love,  and  the  Cross 
is  the  stupendous  expedient  by  which  He  harmonizes  that 
love  with  the  rectitude  of  His  government !  Then  the  sinner 
need  not  perish — and  the  Cross  is  the  amazing  means  of  his 
salvation.  Had  it  ever  been  his  lot  to  gaze  on  the  appalling 
spectacle  of  an  ordinary  crucifixion,  the  sight  would  pro- 
bably have  left  an  image  on  his  mind  never  to  be  effaced.  Is 
it  possible,  then,  that  he  can  behold  "  Jesus  Christ,  evidently 
set  forth  crucified  before  his  eyes" — that  he  can  know  the 
dignity  of  the  sufferer,  as  God  manifest  in  the  flesh — can  be- 
lieve that  He  hates  the  sin  as  deeply  as  He  loves  the  sinner- 
can  reflect  that  the  effect  of  His  death  is  to  be  his  own  de- 
liverance— and  can  look  into  the  heart  of  this  great  mystery 
and  find  it  to  be  love,  without  experiencing  a  change  ?  If 
every  word  which  he  hears  spoken,  even  by  a  fellow-man, 
leaves  some  impression  on  his  mind,  can  he  hear  that  he  is 
saved,  and  believe  that  the  voice  which  assures  him  of  salva- 
tion is  the  voice  of  Gcd,  without  feelino-  it  thrill  throuoh 

'  O  CD 

every  faculty  of  his  soul  ?  If  every  object  and  event  he  may 
witness  produces  some  effect  on  his  character,  is  it  possible 
that  the  event  which  is  to  affect  his  whole  being  for  ever — 
v/hich,  for  him,  shuts  for  ever  the  gate  of  hell,  and  throws 
open  and  fills  with  visions  of  glory  the  ample  spaces  of  eter- 
nity— should  produce  only  a  transient  and  slender  impression? 
Must  he  not,  by  necessity  of  nature,  love  Him,  without  whom 
he  would  soon  have  had  nothing  in  the  universe  to  love — but 
have  been  eternally  hateful,  even  to  himself?  Must  he  not 
render  obedience  to  Him,  without  whom  the  chains  of  his 
slavery  would  soon  have  been  riveted  for  ever  ?  He  waits 
not  for  a  rej^ly — he  needs  not  a  command.  He  is  under  the 
mastery  of  a  principle  which  is  its  ov/n  law — a  principle  of 
boundless  gratitude  and  love.  The  power  of  the  Cross  has 
moved  the  primary  forces  of  his  nature — the  springs  of  hope 
and  fear,  of  adoration  and  love.     The  world  has  lost  him. 


16  THE  COSPEL  THE  POWER  OF 

His  heart  is  at  the  feet  of  Christ.  He  dates  life  and  happiness 
from  the  transition.  Henceforth  he  moves  in  a  region  of 
which  the  Cross  is  the  central  object,  and  where  the  benig- 
nant and  attractive  influences  which  stream  from  it  in  all 
directions  hold  him  in  willino-  and  deliohted  alleo-iance. 

o  o  o 

Here,  then,  is  the  secret  of  that  supreme  influence  which 
the  Gospel  exercises  over  the  man  whom  the  world  had  de- 
based, and  sin  had  ruined  ;  and  this,  if  I  may  say  so,  is  the 
line  of  truth  along  which  the  Spirit  of  God  delights  to  operate. 
By  acquainting  him  with  his  immortality,  it  in  effect  gives 
him  a  soul,  and  gives  it  on  the  threshold  of  a  new,  an  eternal 
world.  By  acquainting  him  with  his  responsibility  and  guilt, 
it  calls  his  conscience  from  the  dead.  And  then,  by  unveil- 
ing to  him  the  mystery  of  the  Cross,  by  w^hich  that  guilt  is 
cancelled,  and  that  immortality  entitled  to  heaven,  one  over- 
powering sentiment  subjects  his  whole  nature  to  the  autho- 
rity of  Christ. 

2.  Now,  this  representation  of  the  manner  in  which  the 
Gospel  becomes  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation,  answers, 
in  effect,  another  question  suggested  by  the  text — To  tuhom 
does  it  j9?'oye  thus  divinely  efficacious  ? — "To  every  one  that 
believeth.'' — But  is  there  not  a  feeling  in  the  heart  of  the 
unrenewed  sinner  wdiich  often  revolts  at  this  arrangement — a 
feeling  of  displeasure,  as  if  faith  might  have  been  dispensed 
with — as  if  it  were  an  unnecessary  requirement,  made  only 
in  the  exercise  of  an  arbitrary  authority — as  if  salvation 
w^ould  have  been  quite  possible,  and  much  easier  and  better, 
without  it — and  a  feeling  which,  if  put  into  words,  would 
amount  to  this,  It  is  very  hard  that  we  cannot  be  saved  with- 
out tJiis  believing,  this  faith '^. 

A  feeling,  indeed,  very  much  akin  to  this,  though  much 
less  virulent  and  violent,  wall  be  found  existing  in  the  human 
heart  against  every  arrangement  of  Providence  in  wdiich  an 
exercise  of  thought  and  will  is  required.  "  It  is  very  hard,'" 
says  the  human  heart,  "  that  we  cannot  be  rich  without  in- 
dustry"— and  hence  the  origin  of  alchemy  and  gambling. 


GOD  UNTO  SALVATION.  17 

"  It  is  very  hard  that  we  cannot  purchase  foresight  without 
exjDerience,  knowledge,  and  reflection'' — and  hence  arose 
astrology,  and  all  the  pretended  methods  of  foretelling  the 
future.  "  And  it  is  very  hard  that  we  cannot  be  happy  here- 
after without  faith  and  holiness  here" — hence  idolatry,  super- 
stition, popery,  penances,  and  the  substitution  of  all  kinds  of 
ceremonies  in  religion.  But  in  opposition  to  all  these,  the 
Gospel  holds  on  its  way  through  the  world,  demanding  faith — 
and  replying  to  the  important  inquiry,  "  Who  will  be 
saved  V — "  Every  one  that  believeth.''' 

And  why  so?  Not  that  there  is  any  special  efficacy  in 
faith  itself,  considered  as  an  exercise  of  the  mind ;  but  because 
it  is  the  organ  of  reception — the  first  and  simple  means  of 
contact  between  the  mind  and  the  truth  or  error  brought 
before  it.  I  say  tJie  truth  or  error;  for  belief  is  as  necessary 
to  the  efficacious  reception  of  the  one  as  of  the  other.  Yes, 
faith  is  as  indispensably  necessary  to  destruction  as  it  is  to 
salvation — faith  in  falsehood,  in  the  ivorld,  in  Satan.  Only, 
alas !  such  faith  is  congenial  to  our  fallen  nature ;  while  faith, 
the  faith  of  the  Gospel,  requires  implantation  by  a  hand  from 
heaven.  Still  it  is  true,  that  without  faith  or  belief  there 
would  have  been  no  destruction.  When  Satan  brought  the 
first  lie  into  the  world,  he  might  have  said,  "  He  that  believes 
it  shall  be  condemned" — the  great  question  was,  whether 
man  would  believe  Satan  in  preference  to  God.  He  did  so, 
and  fell.  The  consequence  is,  that  everything  since  has 
been  viewe(f  by  man  through  a  false  medium,  so  that  the 
whole  system  of  things  may  be  now  said  to  be  one  great 
complicated  falsehood,  and  man  believes  it  and  is  lost.  The 
Gospel,  therefore,  now  comes  into  the  world  as  the  truth  of 
God — a  world  in  which  it  is  the  only  system  of  spiritual 
truth  to  be  found — in  which  it  stands  up  alone,  Kke  Elijah  on 
Carmel,  the  only  witness  for  God  in  a  great  tem23le  of  false- 
hood; and  the  great  question  now  is,  whether  man  will  be- 
lieve God  in  preference  to  Satan.  When  Satan  came,  he 
found  man  believing  God;  and  he  saw  that  unless  he  could 


18  THE  GOSPEL  THE  POWER  OF 

induce  us  to  transfer  our  faith  to  him,  for  us  there  would  be, 
in  effect,  no  Msehood  to  deceive,  no  tempter  to  destroy,  no 
interrui^tion  to  our  paradise, — that  everything  depended  on 
our  believing  him.  But  no^v,  when  the  Gospel  comes,  it  finds 
man  a  firm  believer  in  the  god  of  this  world ;  and  it  sees  that 
unless  we  can  be  induced  to  transfer  our  faith  back  to  God, 
for  us,  in  effect,  there  will  be  no  Gospel,  no  truth  to  sanctify 
and  save,  no  interruption  to  our  misery  and  guilt, — that 
everything  depends  on  our  believing  it.  To  complain,  then, 
of  the  hardship  of  requiring  faith  in  order  to  salvation  is  to 
betray  the  greatest  ignorance  or  enmity,  or  both.  Indeed, 
the  man  who  utters  it  is  at  the  very  moment  a  believer,  a 
firm  believer  in  Satan ;  and  this  it  is  which  accounts  for  the 
complaint.  Satan  hath  said  to  him,  "  Hath  God  said,  In  the 
day  thou  believest  the  Gospel  thou  shalt  be  saved?  It  is  an 
unnecessary  requirement;  He  could  and  ought  to  save  you 
without;  and  you  shall  be  saved  without.'''  And  the  man 
believes  it — believes  the  ftither  of  lies  in  preference  to  the  God 
of  truth,  and  vents  his  complaint  accordingly.  His  feeling, 
therefore,  if  uttered  in  full,  would  amount  to  this : — "  It  is 
very  hard  that  I  cannot  have  all  the  benefit  of  believing  the 
truth  while  I  am  living  in  the  belief  of  lies.  When  the 
Almighty  knows  that  I  am  believing  Satan,  it  is  very  hard 
that  He  should  ask  me  to  believe  Himself  in  preference. 
Surely  He  might  take  me  to  heaven  without  disturbing  my 
progress  towards  hell.''  But  no;  in  opposition  to  all  such 
delusions,  contradictions,  and  enmity  of  heart,  the  language 
of  Christ  wisely,  graciously,  necessarily  is,  "  He  that  helieveth 
shall  be  saved — the  Gospel  is  the  means  of  salvation  to  every 
one  that  helieueth." 

3.  And  this  will  furnish  the  right  reply  to  another  inquiry, 
"Why  is  it  that  the  Gospel  has  not  universally  triumphed?" 
Simply  because  it  has  not  been  universally  believed.  It  did 
not  engage  that  every  one  should  believe,  but  only  that  every 
one  that  does  believe  shall  be  saved. 

■i,  The  great  question  is,  then — Has  it  proved  the  power 


GOD  UNTO  SALVATION.  19 

of  God  unto  salvation  to  every  one  that  helieveth?  Had  the 
primitive  Christians  been  perplexed  with  doubts  of  its  power 
to  save,  how  eminently  fitted  was  the  conversion  of  Paul  to 
remove  them!  After  him,  of  whom  could  they  doubt?  He 
himself  regarded  the  question  of  the  Divine  sufficiency  of  the 
Gospel  as  settled  by  his  own  conversion — settled  for  ever. 
But  the  evidence  of  its  saving  power  has  gone  on  increasing 
with  each  successive  age.  Ask  a  Luther  what  doctrine  it  was 
which  shook  the  Papal  throne,  and  he  will  tell  you  that  it  was 
that  grand  test  of  a  standing  or  falling  church — justification 
by  faith  alone.  Ask  Jonathan  Edwards  to  what  he  could 
trace  that  revival  in  his  church  which  has  since  been  followed 
by  so  many  similar  Pentecostal  scenes,  and  he  will  tell  you 
that  it  immediately  followed  his  dhcoiivses  on  justification  by 
faith  alone.  Ask  the  Christian  missionary  by  what  mighty 
power  he  triumphs,  and  a  Brainerd  replies — "  It  was  v»dien  I 
discoursed  to  the  multitude  on  that  sacred  j^^ssage,  '  Yet  it 
pleased  the  Lord  to  bruise  him,'  that  the  word  was  attended 
with  a  resistless  power;  many  hundreds  in  that  great  assem- 
bly, consisting  of  three  or  four  thousand,  were  so  much 
affected,  that  there  was  a  very  great  mourning,  like  to  Jhe 
mourning  of  Hadadrimmon.  'How  was  that?'  said  one  of 
the  affected  Greenlanders  wlien,  after  the  rationalising  pro- 
cess had  long  been  tried  on  them  in  vain,  the  history  of  our 
Lord's  sufferino;s  was  at  lenoth  read  to  them — '  How  was 
that?  Tell  me  that  once  more,  for  I  would  fain  be  saved 
too.' " 

In  the  history  of  its  progress  we  recognize  almost  every 
disjDlay  of  gracious  power  of  which  the  mind  can  conceive. 
Even  in  our  own  day,  it  has  melted  the  inflexible  Indian  into 
penitence  and  tears,  and  has  enabled  the  shrinking  Hindu  to 
brave  the  loss  of  caste  and  the  martyr's  pangs. 

What  other  evidence  of  its  power  can  be  necessary?  Under 
its  subduino-  and  harmonizino-  influence,  the  coiivert  from  the 
frozen  zone  has  been  hailed  as  a  brother  in  Christ  by  the 
Christian    Indian  in  his   native  wilderness;    and  the   once 


20  THE  GOSPEL  THE  POY/ER  OF 

savage  warrior  of  America  has  sent  letters  of  peace  and  love 
to  the  fisherman  of  Greenland.  At  its  sonnd,  the  barbarian 
veteran  of  a  hundred  battles  and  of  a  hundred  years  has 
become  a  little  child  ;  and  a  host  of  warriors,  each  of  v/hom 
would  once  have  preferred  death  to  a  tear,  have  dissolved  into 
penitence. 

What  other  evidence  can  be  necessary?  Instruments  which 
had  never  been  used  but  for  v/ar  and  murder,  it  has  converted 
to  useful  and  even  sacred  purjDoses;  and  tribes  which  had 
never  met  but  in  deadly  conflict,  it  assembles  together  around 
the  table  of  the  Lord.  It  has  declined  no  contest  through 
fear  of  defeat ;  and  wherever  it  has  gone,  it  has  erected  monu- 
ments of  its  saving  power. 

What  other  evidence  can  be  necessary  ?  Among  its  con- 
verts are  men  whose  depravity  would  compare  with  that  of  a 
Jeroboam,  a  Manasseh,  or  a  Saul  of  Tarsus.  Name  the  most 
vile  and  degraded  of  the  species  ;  and  pointing  to  its  con- 
verts the  Gospel  can  say,  "  Such  were  some  of  you ;  but  ye 
are  washed,  but  ye  are  sanctified,  but  ye  are  justified  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  and  by  the  Spirit  of  our  God ! ''  Oh, 
what  must  be  that  darkness  which  is  only  comparable  to 
the  shadow  of  death  ?  Then,  what  must  that  jDOwer  be  which 
can  pierce  a  continent  of  such  darkness,  and  make  it  light  in 
the  Lord  ?  And  yet  the  Gospel  does  this.  Oh,  what  must  be 
that  restless  anguish  of  soul  which  can  impel  men  to  imder- 
take  long  and  wasting  2)ilgrimages,  and  voluntarily  to  lacerate 
their  flesh,  and  inflict  agonies  of  self-torture  ?  Then,  what 
must  that  gracious  power  be  which  can  say  to  this  tempest 
of  the  soul,  "  Peace,  be  still,''  and  there  is  a  great  calm  ? 
And  yet  the  Gospel  does  this.  What  must  that  sense  of 
guilt  be  which  can  burst  the  sacred  bonds  of  humanity,  and 
ofl'er  a  brother  man  in  sacrifice  ;  or  which  can  even  suppress 
the  still  more  sacred  feelings  of  the  mother,  and  induce  her 
to  immolate  her  infant  child  ?  Then,  what  must  that  gracious 
power  be  which  can  pluck  out  that  sting  of  conscious  guilt, 
and  bid  her  go  in  peace  ?   And  yet  the  Gospel  does  this ;  for 


GOD  UXTO  SALVATION.  21 

it  proclaims,  "  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  his  Son,  cleanseth 
from  all  sin/' 

What  other  evidence  of  its  saving  power  is  necessary  ?  To 
say  that  it  is  the  only  power  which  does  save,  is  saying  but 
little.  Every  other  moral  power  destroys.  In  its  remedial 
and  saving  influence,  the  Gospel  stands  alone  in  the  world. 
Everything  is  against  it ;  and  yet  at  this  very  moment  it  is 
saving — saving  myriads.  It  is  in  the  family,  cheering  ten 
thousand  happy  homes.  It  is  in  the  closet,  bidding  the 
Christian  ask  and  receive,  that  his  joy  may  be  full.  It  is 
with  the  little  child,  opening  its  infant  lips  in  praise  ;  and 
with  the  proud  man,  making  him  a  little  child.  It  is  present 
with  the  slave,  reconciling  him  to  the  degTadation  of  colour — 
inspiring  him  with  charity  towards  those  who  have  dealt  out 
to  him  nothing  but  insult  and  wrong — breathing  over  his 
passions  the  calm  of  resignation — and  teaching  his  spirit, 
spurned  from  every  other  resting  place,  to  rest  in  God  and 
to  wait  for  His  salvation.  It  is  bending  over  the. suffering, 
and  binding  up  their  broken  hearts.  And  it  is  present  in 
the  sick-room  by  the  bed  of  the  departing  saint,  raising  his 
mind  superior  to  bodily  suffering,  and,  while  the  dew  of  death 
is  on  his  brow,  keeping  that  brow  calm  and  serene. 

But,  oh,  its  bright  and  ultimate  results  are  too  great  for 
earth — they  must  be  sought  for  in  heaven.  Do  you  ask,  then, 
for  greater  evidence  of  its  saving  power  still  ?  Then  must 
you  stand  where  John  stood,  and  command  a  view  of  the 
blessed  above.  But  where  is  the  line  by  which  you  can 
fathom  the  depth  of  the  pit  from  which  it  has  saved  them  ? 
what  is  the  scale  by  which  you  can  take  the  height  of  that 
bliss  to  which  it  has  raised  them  ?  and  where  the  balances 
in  which  you  can  weigh  their  eternal  weight  of  glory  ?  for  it 
has  proved  the  power  of  God  to  the  salvation  of  them  all. . 
Blessed,  blessed  Gospel !  guilt,  which  might  destroy  a  world 
has  by  thy  instrumentality  been  cancelled — iron  chains  of  sin 
been  burst  asunder — misery,  second  only  to  that  of  the  lost 
in  hell,  has  given  place  to  the  peace  of  God — hearts  stored 


22  THE  GOSPEL  THE  TOWEE  OF 

witli  pollution  made  habitations  of  God — where  Satan's  seat 
was,  happy  communities  have  been  formed — large  tracts  of 
the  earth  turned  into  the  garden  of  the  Lord — and  heaven 
received  some  of  its  richest  songs  and  its  brightest  crowns. 
And  still  the  Gospel  holds  on  its  way.  It  looks  on  all  the 
wants  and  woes  of  the  world  as  its  OT\ai ;  and  never  will  it 
rest — never  will  it  account  its  commission  fulfilled  and  its 
work  complete — till  it  has  extiuguished  all  human  misery, 
broken  the  rod  of  the  grand  oppressor,  dried  up  the  tears  of 
the  world,  turned  all  its  complaints  into  praise,  and  replen- 
ished the  universe  with  light,  and  joy,  and  love. 


And  is  it  possible  that  the  word  shame  should  ever  have 
been  uttered  in  connexion  with  such  a  Gosjoel  ?  Yes,  shame 
on  the  world  which  occasioned  its  utterance — shame  on 
darkness,  for  despising  the  light — shame  on  misery,  for  re- 
jecting mercy — shame  on  a  world  perishing  of  the  wounds 
v/hich  its  own  hand  has  inflicted,  and  yet  rejecting,  scorning, 
and  still  nailing  to  the  cross  the  only  hand  stretched  out  to 
heal  it.  Not  shame  on  the  lips  that  uttered  the  word  ! 
Honoured  be  the  martyr  zeal  which  could  say  in  the  presence 
of  a  Cross- dosj^ising  world,  "  I  am  not  ashamed  of  the  Gospel 
of  Christ,"  for  we  know  what  tliat  meant.  It  meant  more 
than  it  means  now ;  at  least,  more  than  it  means  among  us. 
It  meant,  "  I  glory  in  it."  It  meant,  "I  am  ready  to  die  for 
it."  It  meant,  "  God  forbid  that  I  should  glory  in  aiight 
besides."  It  meant,  "The  Gospel  of  Christ  is  the  only  thing 
in  the  universe  of  which,  as  a  means  of  salvation,  I  am  not 
ashamed.  Of  Judaism  I  am  ashamed  ;  for  its  design  is 
superseded,  its  very  essence  is  corrupted  and  perverted.  Of 
Paganism  in  all  its  forms  I  am  ashamed ;  for  it  has  changed 
the  very  truth  of  God  into  a  lie.  But,  ashamed  of  the  Gospel ! 
Wliy,  compared  with  its  wisdom  every  other  system  is  foolish- 
ness !  Compared  with  its  condescension  and  grace,  the  very 
tender  mercies  of  every  other  system  are  cruelty  and  murder  I 


GOD  UNTO  SALVATION.  23 

Compared  witli  its  power,  all  other  strengtli  is  weakness,  for 
it  is  the  very  power  of  God  !  Ashamed  of  the  Cross  !  It 
was  for  the  Son  of  God  to  be  ashamed  of  that.  But  He  was 
not — He  endured  the  cross,  despising  the  shame.  Had  He 
only  touched  that  cross,  He  would  have  hallowed,  ennobled, 
and  clothed  it  with  glory.  By  chjing  on  it.  He  has  made  it 
the  symbol  of  the  world's  salvation.  Ashamed  of  His  humilia- 
tion !  All  the  seraphim  are  at  this  moment  adoring  Him  on 
account  of  it ;  and  God  also  hath  given  Him  a  name  above 
every  name.  Ashamed  of  the  Gospel  !  It  is  the  very 
'  power  of  God  unto  salvation  to  every  one  that  believeth.'' 
Why,  it  has  saved  even  me — me,  who  was  before  a  blas- 
phemer, and  a  persecutor,  and  injurious — me,  the  chief  of 
sinners.  And  what  it  has  done  for  me  it  can  do  for  all  man- 
kind ;  what  it  has  done  for  me  it  must  do  for  them,  or  they 
will  perish — everlastingly  perish.  And  believing  this,  can  I 
hesitate  to  do  and  endure  the  utmost  that  humanity  can,  in 
order  that  they  may  possess  it  ?  Eidicule,  persecution,  mar- 
tyrdom— none  of  these  things  move  me  !  In  such  a  cause  I 
am  now  ready  to  be  offered." 

Brethren,  can  we  sympathize  with  the  apostle  in  his  lofty 
appreciation  of  the  Gospel,  and  his  devotedness  to  its  diffu- 
sion ?  I  ask  not,  first,  are  you  thankful  that  you  possess  it  ? 
nor,  secondly,  do  you  cordially  believe  it  ?  nor,  thirdly,  do 
you  openly  and  unshrinkingly  profess  it  ?  nor,  fourthly,  are 
you  inspired  witli  a  scriptural  confidence  in  its  ultimate 
triumph  ?  But,  fifthly,  I  ask  all  in  one,  by  inquiring,  do  you 
symjxitMze  luith  the  apostle  in  his  lofty  appreciation  of  the 
Gospel,  and  his  devotedness  to  its  diffusion .?  True,  in  the 
present  day,  when  the  facilities  for  diffusing  the  Gospel  are  so 
great,  numbers  may  take  a  superficial  part  in  it  who  have 
never  felt  its  povv^er  to  save.  But  is  it  possible  that  any  one 
who  has  felt  that  power  can  ever  after  be  indifferent — can  be 
less  than  deeply  anxious  for  its  diffusion  ?  Oh,  brethren,  if 
Paul  is  to  be  our  example,  we  have  yet  much  to  coj^y.  If  he 
was  not  a  fanatic,  we  are  yet  deeply  guilty.     If  he  was  not 


24  THE  GOSPEL  THE  POWEE  OF 

mad,  then  are  we  still  slumbering — slumbering  in  the  midst 
of  a  world  whose  damnation  slumbereth  not. 

1.  And  yet,  in  all  this  self-consuming  zeal,  was  he  exceed- 
ing his  obligations,  doing  anything  more  than  carrying  out 
Christian  principles  to  tlieir  legitimate  application — living  to 
Christ?  Did  he  ever  utter  a  word  which  implied  that  he 
considered  himself  an  exception  to  what  others  should  be  ? 
that  no  one  was  bound  to  be  so  zealous  for  Christ  as  he  was  ? 
that  a  lower  standard  of  benevolence  was  sufficient  for  them  ? 
On  the  contrary,  how  humbly  did  he  account  himself  less  than 
the  least  of  all  saints — how  uniformly  did  he  speak  of  him- 
self only  as  one  of  a  number  constrained  and  borne  onwards 
by  the  love  of  Christ — and  how  earnestly  did  he  say  to  all, 
"  Polio w  me,  as  far  as  I  follow  Christ." 

2.  Numbers  did  thus  follov/  him ;  they  were  ready  to  be  mes- 
sengers or  martyrs,  honoured  or  accursed,  anything  or  nothing, 
so  that  they  might  assist  in  diffusing  the  Gospel  of  Christ. 
And  what  was  there  in  all  this  which  is  not  obligatory  on  the 
Christians  of  the  present  day  ?  What  had  the  Saviour  done 
for  tliem  which  he  has  not  equalled,  and  even  exceeded,  for 
us  ?  Compassioyi  moved  them ;  but  is  irreligion  less  de- 
praving, or  sin  less  destructive,  or  hell  less  fearful  now  than 
then?  Zeal  for  the  glory  of  Christ  incited  them  ;  but  are 
we  less  indebted  to  redeeming  love  than  they  ?  We  do  not 
hope  for  less  than  eternal  life,  and  did  they  expect  more? 
The  Spirit  of  God  imi^elled  and  directed  them ;  but  it  was  in 
answer  to  earnest,  united,  and  persevering  prayer  ;  and  is  the 
throne  of  grace  less  accessible  to  us  than  it  was  to  them  ? 

3.  Nor  can  it  be  alleged  that  the  Gosj^el  since  his  day  has 
lost  any  of  its  divinity  or  power  to  save.  Of  what  else  in  the 
whole  circle  of  human  j^ursuit  can  it  be  truly  affirmed  that 
it  is  worthy  of  an  imuiortal  mind,  and  that  it  may  be  car- 
ried without  dread  into  the  regions  of  eternity,  and  into 
the  presence  of  God?  Bring  all  the  past  into  its  presence 
— all  the  objects  and  interests  which  crowded  and  engrossed 
the  world  when  Paul  was  on  earth — its  honours,  its  riches. 


GOD  UNTO  SALVATION.  25 

its  pleasures,  its  false  religions.     I  am  ashamed  of  tliem  all ; 
tliey  destroyed  tlie  world.     With  the  exception  of  those  to 
whom  the  Gospel  proved  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation, 
these  things  were  the  means  of  leading  dovm  all  the  myriads 
of  that   generation  to   perdition.       Bring   all  the  existinn 
objects  andt  interests   of  the  vv^orld  into  its  presence.     The 
wealth  for  which  men  are  mad  ;  true,  it  is  a  mountain  of 
riches — but  what  will  its  history  be  ?    Yv^ill  it  still  be  devoted 
to  the  lust  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of  life,  as  it  ever  lias 
been  ?     Then  am  I  ashamed  of  it  all.    Tlie  political  place  and 
power  for  whicli  men  are  ever  struggling — will  it  involve 
the  same  heartlessness,  injustice,  treachery,  and  misery  v\diich 
it  has  ever  done  ?      Then  am  I  heartily  ashamed  of  it  all. 
The  crowns  and  diadems  of  the  earths-will  their  Avcarers 
resemble  the  great  majority  of  their  predecessors — will  tliey 
be  as  responsible,  and  yet  as  weak,  as   worthless,  and  as 
wicked  ?     Then  am  I  ashamed  of  them  all,  and  bless  God 
that  I  belong  not  to  their  number.  The  science  of  the  learned 
— however  I  might  value  the  science  itself — yet  of  the  idola- 
trous importance  attached  to  it,  of  the  great  results  expected 
from  it,  of  the  manner  in  whicli  it  is  so  generally  allovv^ed  to 
occupy  the  place  of  true  religion,  I  am  utterly  ashamed.    The 
prevailing  religions  of  the' earth — Popery,  J\Iohammedanism, 
Brahminism,  Paganism  in  all  its  forms — can  I  think  what  a 
world  turns  round  its  cities  and  populations  to  the  eye  of 
God,  what  shouts  of  defiance  against  Him  arise  from  it,  v/liat 
spectacles  of  shame  are  exhibited  on  it,  and  can  I  remeinber 
that  these  are  my  fellow-men,  and  that  God  is  looking  do^^m 
upon  all  this,  without  being  ashamed  of  them  ?      And,  then, 
looking  on  to  the  future,  can  I  remember  the  fire  in  which 
all  that  wealth  and  those  crowns  are  to  be  dissolved,  and  the 
judgment-seat  at  which  all  these  besotted  and  guilty  beings 
are  to  stand,  and  the  tremendous  fate  which  awaits  them 
beyond,  without  looking  around  for  help  ?      And  can  I  know 
that  the  Gospel  is  precisely  the  help  I  need,  and  that  it  is 
the  only  truth  in  a  world  of  falsehood  and  error,  the  only 


26  THE  GOSPEL  THE  POWER  OF 

thing  from  God  in  a  world  filled  witli  demons  and  destruc- 
tion— and  can  I  know  tliat  I  have  been  saved  by  it  expressly 
that  I  may  impart  it  to  others,  without  throwing  my  whole 
soul  into  the  work  ? 

4.  Nor  can  we  plead  that  the  Gospel  is  diffusing  itself  with 
sufficient  rapidity  already.  That  our  missionary  success  has 
equalled  our  missionary  efforts,  we  allow ;  but  that  those 
efforts  are  at  all  commensurate  with  the  wants  of  the  world, 
we  deny.  Oh,  it  is  fearful  to  thmk  that  since  the  time 
when  Paul  pronounced  the  Gospel  to  be  the  power  of  God 
unto  salvation,  forty  thousand  millions  of  human  beings 
should  have  been  allowed  to  pass  through  this  world  of  guilt 
and  Y/oe,  on  their  way  to  a  dark  and  dreadful  eternity, 
without  having  heard  from  the  Church  a  single  accent  of 
mercy  and  salvation.  And  still  more  startling  is  it  to  reflect 
that  there  should  be  a  greater  number  of  heathen  in  the 
world  at  this  moment  than  at  any  previous  period  smce  the 
Gospel  dispensation  commenced — greater  even  than  about 
fifty  years  ago,  when  the  modern  missionary  effort  began ; 
for  while,  owing  to  our  languid  measures,  we  are  proselyting 
them  only  at  the  rate  of  some  hundreds  or  thousands 
annually,  they  are  yearly  adding  to  their  ranks,  by  mere 
increase  of  population,  about  three  millions  and  a  half.  This 
is  a  reflection  at  which  a  Paul  would  have  been  thrown  into 
an  agony  of  concern.  Brethren,  we  have  long  enough  tried 
what  half  measures,  what  a  lazy,  selfish  Christianity  can  do. 
Is  it  not  high  time  for  us  to  try  the  experiment  of  apostolic 
zeal? 

5.  Nor  can  we  plead  a  want  of  facility  for  the  missionary 
enterprise — a  want  of  access  to  the  heathen.  How  vastly 
superior  are  our  advantages  in  this  respect  to  those  of  a 
Paul !  He  anticipated  nothing  but  contempt  and  persecution 
if  he  took  the  Gospel  to  Eome.  Britain  is  at  this  moment 
the  centre  around  which  revolve  the  hopes  and  the  destinies 
of  man.  A  large  proportion  of  the  heathen  are  not  only 
held  in  political  subjection  to  us,  but  are  actually  ready  to 


GOD  UNTO  SALVATION.  27 

l^lace  themselves  as  disciples  at  our  feet.  Hundreds  of 
thousands  of  them  may  be  said  to  be  standing  at  tliis 
moment  on  the  threshold  of  the  temple  of  idolatry,  ready 
to  quit  it  for  ever.  Shall  we  call  them  into  the  Cliurch  of 
Christ ;  or  shall  we  remand  them  back  to  rekindle  the  fires 
of  their  Moloch,  and  to  rebuild  the  altars  of  their  demon 
worship  ?  ]\Iultitudes  of  them  are  standing  at  the  gates  of 
the  Christian  Church — the  hand  of  Providence  has  directed 
them  there — they  bring  with  them  signs  from  heaven  that 
He  has  sent  them,  and  that  He  expects  us  to  receive  and 
instruct  them.  Are  we  ready  to  make  the  sacrifices  which 
the  occasion  requires  ?  At  all  events,  if  we  will  persist  in 
neglecting  them,  let  us  j^lainly  avov/  the  reason.  Before  we 
finally  dismiss  them  to  destruction,  let  us  by  public  mani- 
festo, or  otherwise,  exculpate  Christianity,  and  blame  the  only 
guilty  cause,  by  telling  them, — "Your  conversion  to  the  Chris- 
tian faith  is  an  object  of  the  highest  importance.  To  effect 
it  would  greatly  augment  our  heavenly  happiness,  secure 
infinite  blessedness  to  you,  and  bring  to  God  everlasting 
glory.  As  far  as  our  instrumentality  is  necessary,  the  means 
are  all  in  our  possession.  But  we  cannot  furnish  them 
without  abridging  our  self-indulgence  ;  and  as  this  requires 
more  love  for  your  souls  and  regard  for  the  authority  of 
Christ  than  we  possess,  v/e  see  no  alternative  but  that  of 
leaving  you  to  perish.''  Now,  monstrous  as  such  language 
may  seem,  by  what  better  plea  can  we  excuse  ourselves  from 
entire  devotedness  to  their  salvation  ? 

6.  Brethren,  the  Gospel  and  those  who  believe  it  form  the 
only  object  on  earth  of  which  God  is  not  ashamed.  Tfe 
talk  of  glorying  in  it ;  but  let  us  remember  that  there  is  a 
Being  who  not  only  glories  in  it,  but  whose  highest  glory  is 
involved  in  it — the  very  power  of  His  glory  is  embarked  in 
it.  Every  moment  during  which  we  continue  to  withhold 
the  Gospel  from  men,  we  are  withholding  from  God  His 
highest  glory — we  are  concealing  from  them  a  scheme  of 
mercy  from  which  He  is  expecting  to   derive   His  richest 


28  THE  GOSPEL  THE  POWER  OF 

revenue  of  praise  for  ever.  The  knov/ledge  of  the  arts,  the 
discoveries  of  science,  the  treasures  of  philosophy — all  these 
might  be  kept  from  them  with  comparative  impunity  ;  but 
that  we  should  keep  back  from  them  knowledge  sent  from 
heaven,  should  cover  us  with  shame,  as  it  does  mth  guilt 
To  have  kept  back  from  them  the  power  of  God  to  create, 
or  to  have  concealed  from  them  the  power  of  God  to  punish, 
that  would  have  been  highly  dishonouring  to  God  ;  but  that 
we  should  keep  back  from  a  world  perishing,  the  povvTr  of 
God  to  save — that  we  should  hide  from  the  dark  world,  not 
only  his  glory,  but  the  very  "  brightness  of  his  glory  " — that 
we  should  conceal  from  a  world  filled  with  the  most  revolt- 
ing and  hideous  images  of  Deity,  the  "  express  image  of  His 
person  '"' — this  is  to  put  a  slight  on  the  character  and  work 
of  Christ  wiiich  He  cannot  away  with.  That  v/e  should, 
have  seen  the  Cross  of  Christ,  and  yet  should  have  allowed 
the  world  to  2:0  on,  ofFerino;  its  human  and  other  sacrifices, 
as  if  He  had  not  "  died  once  for  all " — that  we  should  have 
held  His  Gospel  in  our  hands,  and  yet  have  allowed  a 
thousand  impostors  and  demons  to  pniblish  their  Shasters 
and  Korans  instead — that  we  should  "  know  the  grace  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,"  grace  so  amazing  that  it  is  perpetually 
filling  all  heaven  with  praise,  and  yet  that  we  should  account 
it  hardly  w^orth  reporting — this  is  to  "  w^ound  the  Father 
through  the  Son ; ''  and  that  we  should  act  thus,  kno"\\'ing 
as  w^e  do  how  the  heart  of  God  is  set  on  the  glory  of  Christ, 
the  height  to  which  He  has  exalted  Him,  and  the  promises 
of  universal  dominion  and  homage  He  has  made  to  Him — 
this  is  not  merely  to  dishonour  infinite  majesty,  but,  what  is 
incomparably  worse,  to  inflict  a  vvound  on  the  very  heart  oi 
infinite  love.     And, 

7.  Never  till  we  feel  this,  and  act  accordingly — never  t'll 
the  Church  puts  forth  its  power  in  harmony,  will  even  the 
evidences  of  Christlanitu  he  complete.  The  logical  argument 
for  its  truth,  indeed,  is  perfect ;  no  chain  of  reasoning  can  be 
more  entire.    But  were  its  mh-acles  to  be  all  repeated  again,  and 


GOD  UNTO  SALVATION.  29 

its  prophecies  to  be  multiplied  a  liunclredfold,  some  signal 
display  of  the  power  and  excellency  of  its  motives  would  still 
be  wantino:  as  tlie  practical  result  of  the  whole.     That  signal 
proof  is  simply  Christian  consistency — the  consistency  of  a 
devoted   Church.      In  lieu  of  this,  the   world  will   accept 
nothing,    not    even    the    most    convincing    arguments   and 
cogent  appeals;   ''Give  us/'  they   say,   "a  practical   proof 
that  you  yourselves  believe,  and  are  in  earnest.''     Christ  will 
accept  nothing,  not  even  the  loudest  professions  ;  "  If  ye  love 
me,"  saith  He,  *'  keep  my  commandments/'     We  ourselves 
can  accept  nothing,  not  even  the  growing  activity  of  the  pre- 
sent day ;  our  consciences  testify  against  us,  and  say,  "  All 
this  activity  is  far  less  than  you  can  do  ; "  and  you  are 
pledged  to  do  all  that  is  possible  for  the  recovery  of  the 
world.     But  where  is  your  self-denial .? — as  yet  you  have 
given  only  the  crumbs  that  fall  from  your  table.    Where  is 
your  consecration  1 — at  present  you  act  only  from  occasional 
impulse  or  compunction,  or  the  lowest  degree  of  principle. 
Where  is  the  lueight  of  your  character  1 — not  merely  is  it 
wanting — well  would  it  be  if  this  were  all — but  it  is  against 
you  ;  in  exact  proportion  as  it  is  absent  from  the  cause  of 
Christ,  it  is  present  to  assist  and  promote  the  cause  of  His 
foes,  to  prolong  the  ruin  of  immortal  souls.     UntU  this  evil 
be  remedied,  therefore,  expect  to  be  kept  low,  humbled,  and 
disgraced  before  the  world  ;  to  be  strangers  to  everything 
like    Pentecostal   visitations   from  on  high  ;    to  be  fearful, 
uncertain,  and  unhappy  in  yourselves.     But  only  remedy  the 
evil,  only  be  consistent,  and  then  "  arise,  and  shine  ;  for  thy 
light  will  have  come,  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord  will  have 
arisen  upon  thee."     What  could  stand  before  the  Gospel  of 
Christ,  were  all  the  spirituality  of  its   doctrines,  the  hohness 
of  its  precepts,  and  the  earnest  and  compassionate  benevo- 
lence of  its  aims  embodied  and  made  visible  in  the  living 
character  of  its  disciples  ?     Who  could  doubt  the  reahty  of 
its  miracles,  when  the  Church  was  seen  standing  upon  them, 
so  to  speak,  as  on  the  mount  of  God,  herself  the  crowning 


30  THE  GOSPEL  THE  POWER  OF 

miracle — the  great  moral  miracle  of  a  vast  commimity, 
living,  not  nnto  themselves,  but  unto  Hini  that  died  for  them 
and  rose  again  ?  Who  could  question  the  truth  of  prophecy, 
when  the  fulfilment  of  a  thousand  prophecies  was  realized 
in  that  sublime  spectacle  itself;  when  the  Church  herself 
became  a  standing  prophecy,  her  every  act  a  presage  of 
success,  her  every  conflict  a  prediction  of  victory,  her  con- 
secrated character,  as  the  representative  of  her  Lord's 
character,  prophesying  to  the  world  in  mute  but  mighty 
eloquence  that  to  Him  every  knee  must  bow  ?  Who  could 
doubt  the  reality,  the  superiority,  the  divinity  of  the  Gosj^el, 
when  it  had  thus  transferred  the  whole  might  of  its  o^vn 
character  to  the  character  of  the  Church  ?  We  ourselves  could 
not  doubt  it,  though  novr,  as  the  necessary  result  of  our  super- 
ficial acquaintance  with  that  power,  we  often  do  ;  but  then, 
in  the  largeness  of  its  views,  we  should  acquire  such  an 
expansion  of  soul,  and  in  the  execution  of  its  lofty  purposes 
such  a  sympathy  with  true  greatness,  as  would  make  the 
weak  like  David,  and  David  like  an  angel  of  the  Lord.  The 
world  around  us  could  not  doubt  it.  As  in  primitive  times, 
"fear  would  come  upon  every  soul,''  God  woukl  give  us 
"lavour  with  all  the  people,''  and  vrould  "add  to  the  Church 
daily  such  as  should  be  saved."  Kor  could  the  heathen 
themselves  doubt  it ;  thei?'  great  argument  against  Chris- 
tianity would  be  gone  ;  the  main  objection  with  Vvdiich  our 
conqiarative  ajmthy  at  present  arms  them  would,  by  the  very 
change  of  our  conduct,  be  converted  into  an  irresistible  plea 
in  its  behalf  They  could  not  doubt  our  identity  with  Christ 
Every  word  we  uttered  in  our  Christian  capacity  would 
remind  them  of  His  compassionate  voice  ;  and  ev^ry  action 
we  performed  would  remind  them  of  His  gracious  example. 
Our  character  would  be  an  expansion  of  the  character  of 
Christ. 

They  could  not  doubt  of  the  power  of  Christian  principle, 
for  they  wordd  see  that  it  secured  the  self-denying  energy  of 
the  whole  man — the  whole  Church.     They  could  not  doubt 


GOD  UNTO  SALVATION.  31 

our  helief  of  their  danger  or  the  depth  of  our  concern  for 
their  deliverance,  for  they  would  see  it  in  the  unremittino' 
earnestness  of  our  efforts  to  save  them.  Nor  could  they 
doubt  any  longer  the  power  of  the  Gospel  to  transform  the 
ivorld,  for  every  day  would  bring  them  the  report  of  fresh 
accessions  made  to  the  kingdom  of  Christ.  Only  let  the 
Church  be  itself — only  let  it  become  the  devoted  agency 
which  it  was  meant  to  be — and  the  world  should  soon  be 
given  into  its  hands.  Who  could  see  it  move  in  its  mission- 
ary path  w^ithout  being  ready  to  precede  it  as  its  eager 
herald,  shouting,  "  Prepare  ye  the  v>\ay  of  the  Lord,"  for  Christ 
himself  Vv^ould  be  with  it?  Who  could  look  down  on  the 
idolatrous  regions  which  lay  in  its  route  without  summoning 
them  to  surrender  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  and  feelin<x  the 
certainty  of  their  speedy  subjection  to  Christ  ?  Who  could 
look  into  the  roll  of  prophecy  v>^ithout  the  full  conviction  that 
all  those  predictions  wdiich  paint  the  universality  and  glory 
of  Messiah's  reign  had  reached  the  eve  of  their  fulfilment? 
The  honour  and  triumph  of  the  Gospel  icould  he  completed. 

Christians,  where  else  are  interests  like  these  at  stake? 
Where  else,  amidst  all  the  enterprises  of  time,  does  so  ample 
a  field  stretch  before  the  view,  or  such  momentous  issues 
await  the  result?  To  overrate  such  an  object  is  impossible; 
to  stand  aloof  from  it,  or  even  to  regard  it  coldly,  enormous 
guilt.  What,  then,  is  the  amount  of  practical  interest  which 
you  are  taking  in  it?  What  are  you  doing  that  others  may 
ftel  its  power — your  children,  your  servants,  friends,  neigh- 
bours— the  world  at  large?  Ask  yourself: — Is  it  at  all 
connnensurate  with  its  mighty  claims? 

Let  others  boast  of  great  designs,  and  talk  of  final  causes; 
h'jre  is  the  final  cause  itself — an  end  so  great  that  all  other 
ends  stand  to  it  only  in  the  relations  of  means — so  lofty 
that  there  is  nothing  higher — so  glorious  that  everything 
else  is  honoured  by  serving  it.  The  one  point,  the  sole  end 
to  which  everything  in  the  government  of  God  is  tending,  is 
"  to  the  praise  of  the  glory  of  His  grace : "  and  to  this  point 


32  THE  GOSrEL  THE  POWER  OF 

it  is  tending  with  the  directness  and  force  of  a  universal  law. 
Every  mite  given — every  Bible  distributed — every  missionary 
sent  forth — every  church  planted — falls  in  with  that  stream  of 
events,  and  forms  a  part  of  that  vast  combination  of  means 
by  which  God  is  reducing  and  restoring  all  things  unto  Him- 
self Even  now  the  agencies  of  Providence  are  urged  into 
unusual  activity;  all  things  are  rushing  to  that  final  issue. 
Belay  to  join  in  the  march  of  mercy,  and  you  will  lose 
opportunities  of  honouring  God  and  of  serving  your  race 
such  as  never  occurred  to  tlie  Church  before,  and  can  never 
be  enjoyed  hi/  you  agam.  Be  indolent,  covetous,  self-indul- 
gent now,  and  the  very  stones  will  cry  out.  Continue  to  live 
for  yourself,  and  the  universe  will  upbraid  you — the  j^erishing 
will  23oint  at  and  reproach  you  as  accessory  to  their  destruc- 
tion— the  Judge  himself  will  say,  "  I  never  knew  you."  On 
the  contrary,  be  faithful  now,  and  the  very  trees  of  the  field 
Vvill  clap  their  hands ;  "  live  unto  the  Lord,"  and  all  things 
shall  live  for  you,  and  be  ready  to  serve  you  in  His  cause; 
be  entirely  devoted  to  His  claims,  and  others  shall  be  moved 
by  your  example,  and  the  world  blessed  by  your  influence, 
and  Christ  himself  shall  rejoice  over  you.  Less  than  entire 
consecration  has  been  tried  for  ages,  and  the  fatal  result  is 
to  be  seen  in  the  thousands  perpetually  passing — passing  at 
this  moment — to  the  bar  of  God  from  regions  where  the 
sound  of  salvation  has  never  been  heard.  If  you  sympathize 
with  Christ,  then,  in  the  travail  of  His  soul,  you  will,  from 
this  time,  see  what  entire  devotedness  can  do  for  their  recovery. 
Moved  by  His  example,  you  will  look  through  your  tears  on 
a  world  perishing  in  its  guilt,  and  you  will  feel  that  you  are 
never  imitating  Him  so  much  as  by  self-denying  jiainstaking 
endeavours  for  its  salvation.  Subdued  by  the  tenderness  of 
its  claims,  you  will  freely  acknowledge  that  you  are  not  your 
own;  that  the  same  reasons  which  bind  you  to  do  anything 
for  Christ,  bind  you  to  do  everything  in  your  j^ovrer,  and  to 
do  it  in  the  best  possible  manner;  that  you  are  bought  with 
a  price  so  great,  that  it  might  purchase  the  entire  dedication 


GOD  UNTO  SALVATION.  33 

of  a  whole  universe  of  intelligent  beings  to  all  eternity. 
Affected  and  engrossed  by  the  magnitude  of  His  cause — the 
cause  of  the  world's  recovery — you  will  feel,  that  to  throw 
less  than  all  your  energies  into  its  promotion  is  an  insult  to 
all  the  momentous  interests  which  it  involves.  Not  only, 
therefore,  wil)  you  task  your  own  powers  in  its  behalf,  you 
v/ill  task  them  partly  in  an  endeavour  to  move  heaven  and 
earth  to  join  you.  In  a  word,  constrained  by  His  love,  you 
vrill  "thus  judge'' — and  never  can  you  be  said  to  be  moved 
by  His  love  except  as  you  are  thus  judging,  and  laboriously 
acting  on  the  judgment — "  that  if  one  died  for  all,  then  were 
all  dead ;  and  that  he  died  for  all,  that  they  who  live  sJiould  not 
henceforth  live  unto  themselves,  but  unto  him  Vvdio  died  for 
them  and  rose  again."  Hasten  into  His  presence,  fall  do^vn 
at  His  feet,  and  surrender  yourself  and  everything  you  have 
to  His  service.  He  will  graciously  accept  the  dedication; 
and,  ten  thousand  ages  hence,  you  ^vill  be  still  praising  Him 
that  you  did  so,  and  an  unkno"»vn  number  will  join  in  blessing 
Him  on  your  account.  And,  brethren,  to  this  it  must  come. 
"  When  Zion  travailed,  she  brought  forth;"  and  not  till  then. 
The  time  is  hastening  on,  v\dien  the  only  question  v/ith  the 
Church  v>^ill  be — when  the  only  consideration  must  be — Is 
it  within  the  compass  of  our  pov\^er  to  bring  aU  around  us 
under  the  influence  of  the  Gospel — to  send  the  Gospel  through 
the  world?  Not,  whether  v/e  can  send  it  with  a  small  effort 
— with  little  self-denial — in  a  way  which  shaU  not  materially 
interfere  v/ith  our  favourite  plans  of  ease  and  personal  grati- 
fication; but  can  we,  by  great  and  long-continued  efforts — 
by  strong  crying  and  tears — by  the  exercise  of  a  bold  and 
vigorous  faith — by  the  most  strenuous  exertions,  and  the 
most  agonizing  struggles,  furnish  a  dying  world — the  Saviour's 
world — v>dth  that  Gospel  which  might  prove  the  power  of 
God  to  their  salvation?  The  question  must  be  answered  by 
the  actual  experiment  of  unreserved  devotedness  to  the 
attempt. 

But,  finally,  let  me  earnestly  ask  you,  my  hearers,  has  the 

0 


34  THE  GOSPEL  THE  POWER  OF 

Gospel  jDroved  the  power  of  God  to  your  own  salvation  ?  Its 
passing  impulses  you  may  have  felt,  but  do  you  know  it  as 
an  abiding  jjower  ?  Its  sublime  imagery  may  have  often  re- 
galed your  imagination,  and  its  touching  appeals  have  moved 
your  passions,  and  its  solemn  claims  have  wrung  from  you  a 
passing  vow;  but,  oh,  do  you  know  it  as  an  indwelling  prin- 
ciple— a  transforming  power?  A  sj^iritual  j)Ower  of  some 
kind  you  are  always  living  under,  whether  you  wiU  or  not. 
Your  path  through  life  lies  through  a  scene  in  which  every 
object  and  event  is  constantly  shedding  on  you  an  influence 
for  evil  or  for  good.  But  here  is  an  instrument  by  which 
you  can  be  saved;  and  the  only  instrument  by  whose  in- 
fluence you  can  be  saved.  Other  things  may  inform  your 
mind,  but  this  transforms  the  heart.  Other  things  may  be- 
guile and  amuse,  but  this  saves  the  soul.  Other  things  may 
suflice  for  this  life,  but  you  are  on  your  way  to  another  life. 
And,  oh,  how  fearful  the  prospect  of  entering  the  eternal 
state  without  having  felt  the  only  power  which  can  there 
avail  you.  Marks  and  signs  of  having  yielded  to  other  in- 
fluences you  will  carry  with  you  ;  but  that  you  should  have 
resisted  the  only  power  that  could  save — that  you  should 
have  spent  your  life  in  a  world  where  the  cross  of  Christ 
was  set  up,  without  ever  falling  prostrate  at  its  foot — that 
you  should  have  had  daily  to  pass  by  the  cross,  should  have 
lived  for  years  in  the  midst  of  the  gracious  influences  which 
stream  from  it,  and  yet  that  you  should  have  come  out  from 
among  them  all  unmelted  and  unrenewed — this  will  be  for 
an  endless  lamentation.  Many  around  you,  too,  ar^e  examples 
of  its  saving  power.  The  Gospel  has  come  to  them  "  not  in 
word  only,  but  in  power.''  Its  statements  of  human  depravity 
and  exigence  they  have  believed  as  true  of  themselves.  Its 
off'ers  of  salvation  they  have  gratefully  accepted  for  them- 
selves. They  do  not  merely  coldly  assent  to  the  Gospel — or 
not  deny  it  merely ;  tliey  "  believe  to  the  saving  of  their 
souls.''  And  why  will  not  you  thus  believe  ?  Your  soul's 
endless  well-being  is  at  stake ;  why  will  you  peril  its  precious 


GOD  UNTO  SALVATION.  35 

interests  any  longer  ?  "Why"— and,  oh,  remember  that  it 
is  infinite  tenderness  which  asks  you  the  question — "  Why 
will  ye  die?''  This  day  breathe  forth  the  earnest  suppli- 
cation— "  0  let  the  Gospel  j)rove  the  power  of  God  to  my 
salvation/'' 

Spirit  of  God  !  signalize  this  occasion  with  Thy  converting 
grace ;  fill  this  new  sanctuary  with  Thy  glory ;  inspire  with 
renewed  energy  thine  honoured  servant  who  is  to  minister  in 
it ;  here  let  Thy  Gospel  prove  the  power  of  God  to  the  salva- 
tion of  numbers,  that  Thy  Church  may  be  enlarged,  and  Thy 
kindom  come.     Amen. 


36  THE  HIGH  AND  LOFTY  ONE 


SERMON  II. 

THE  HIGH  AND  LOFTY  ONE  DWELLING  WITH  THE 

CONTEITE  MAN. 

Isaiah  Ivii.  15 — "  For  tlius  saith  the  high  sir.d  lofty  One  that  inhahiteth 
eternity,  whose  name  is  Holy ;  I  dwell  in  the  high  and  holy  place,  with 
him  also  that  is  of"  a  contrite  and  humble  spirit,  to  revive  the  spirit  of 
the  humble,  and  to  revive  the  heart  of  the  contrite  ones." 

Isaiah  Ixvi.  l,  2 — "  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  The  heaven  is  my  throne,  and 
the  earth  is  my  footstool:  where  is  the  house  tliat  ye  build  unto  me? 
and  where  is  the  place  of  my  rest?  For  all  those  things  hath  mine 
hand  made,  and  aU  those  things  have  been,  saith  the  Lord :  but  to  this 
man  will  I  look,  even  to  him  that  is  poor  and  of  a  contrite  s})irit,  and 
trembleth  at  my  word." 

These  two  passages  are  evidently  congenial  in  sentiment, 
and  are  both  directed  against  that  one  prevailing  error  v>diicli 
leads  men  to  substitute  the  sensible  for  the  spiritual — the 
creature  for  the  Creator.  But  thouoh  they  are  both  levelled 
agjainst  the  same  error,  the  forms  of  that  error  are  different. 
From  the  context  of  the  first  we  learn  that  it  refers  to  a 
period  of  restoration  from  national  calamity — that  with  a 
view  to  that  restoration  the  Israelites  generally  liad  resorted 
to  foreign  aid,  and  even  to  idolatrous  means,  at  the  same 
time  foolishly  expecting  that  God  would  add  His  co-operation 
to  the  whole,  as  if  Omnipotence  would  be  seen  confederat- 
ing with  such  allies — "  God  and  Isis"  inscribed  on  the  same 
banner,  "  Jehovah  and  Baal"  joined  in  the  same  war-cry — 
or  as  if  the  idolatrous  state  of  mind  which  could  lead  them 
to  seek  such  helj3,  and  the  proud  elation  they  felt  at  having 


DWELLING  WITH  THE  CONTEITE  MAN.  87 

obtained  it,  was  just  tlie  approj^riate  feeling  for  them  to  bring 
into  His  presence — a  feeling  which  seemed  to  say  to  Him, 
"  We  have  done  what  we  could  to  render  ourselves  at  this 
crisis  independent  of  Thee ;  so  that  whether  Thou  art  with  us 
or  not,  we  calculate  on  success.  But  still,  to  save  appearances, 
and  remembering  that  Thou  art  our  national  Deity,  we  ask 
Thy  co-operation,  and  would  rather  have  Thee  with  us  than 
against  us.''  "  No,''  saith  God,  "  when  thou  criest,  let  thy 
companies  deliver  thee  ;  but  the  wind  shall  carry  them  all 
away — vanity  shall  take  them.  Not  that  I  i3ropose  to  work 
without  means  ;  but  I,  the  supreme,  the  eternal,  the  Holy 
One,  who  am  independent  of  all  means,  if  I  do  employ  them, 
must  be  allowed  to  select  such  as  are  appropriate  to  my  own 
character.  These  are  the  humble  among  men,  the  contrite, 
and  all  '  who  put  their  trust  in  me,'  and  these  *  shall  inherit 
my  holy  mountain.' " 

The  second  passage  refers  to  a  period  subsequent  to  the 
first — a  period  when  the  prediction  in  the  first  should  be 
accomplished,  when  the  nation  should  be  restored,  the  worship 
of  God  re-established,  and  when  those  who  had  been  spoken 
of  as  humble,  contrite,  and  believing,  should  be  occupied  in 
rebuilding  and  beautifying  the  temple  on  Zion.  But  here 
we  find  the  very  men  who  had  escaped  the  tacit  rebuke  of 
the  first  passage  laying  themselves  open  to  the  implied  re- 
buke of  the  second,  by  trusting  unduly  to  the  attractions  of 
their  temple.  They  had  avoided  the  error  in  its  grosser  form, 
for  they  expected  deliverance  from  none  but  God ;  but  into 
the  subtler  form  of  that  error  they  completely  fell,  for  they 
expected  to  secure  the  Divine  presence  among  them  by  the 
complication  and  splendour  of  their  ritual.  Thus,  if  the 
former  party  acted  as  if  they  aimed  to  exj^^el  God  from  among 
them,  the  latter  acted  as  if  they  hoped  to  build  Him  in,  and 
engross  Him  to  themselves — the  error  of  both  proceeding 
from  a  preference  of  the  sensible  to  the  spiritual,  and  from  a 
mistaken  apprehension  of  the  character  of  God,  as  if  He  were 
altogether  such  an  one  as  themselves.     Accordingly,  in  each 


88  THE  HIGH  AND  LOFTY  ONE 

case  the  Almigiity  recalls  tlieir  attention  to  tliat  infinite  per- 
fection of  His  nature,  by  which  He  is  distinguished  from  every 
other  being  in  the  universe — evidently  intending  that  the  sub- 
lime recollection  should  shame  them  out  of  their  delusions, 
by  reminding  them  that  everything  is  to  be  viewed  in  rela- 
tion to  Him  ;  since  the  highest  distinction  of  the  loftiest  crea- 
ture is,  that  it  can  find  a  place  in  His  train,  can  harmonize 
with  His  plans,  can  reflect  His  image,  and  share  His  appro- 
bation. 

In  accordance  with  this  view,  and  in  the  humble  hope  that 
we  may  derive  from  it  the  same  practical  impression,  we 
propose  to  illustrate  the  following  propositions, — that,  from 
eternity,  the  residence  of  God  has  always  corresponded 
with  His  nature  and  perfections ;  that  if  He  condescend, 
therefore,  to  commune  with  any  of  the  children  of  men,  it 
can  only  be,  in  harmony  with  the  same  principle,  with  the 
humble  and  the  contrite  ;  that  all  worship,  therefore,  is 
acceptable  to  Him  only  in  proportion  as  it  harmonizes  with 
the  excellencies  of  His  nature ;  and  that  all  human  instru- 
mentalitfj  depends  for  its  efficiency  on  the  same  condition. 

I. 

In  the  first  place,  we  remark  that,  from  eternity,  the  resi- 
dence of  God  has  always  corresponded  with  His  infinite 
nature  and  perfections.  This  seems  to  be  implied  in  the 
text  in  three  particulars  :  being  eternal,  He  has  inhabited 
eternity  ;  as  the  High  and  Lofty  One,  He  has  occupied  the 
throne  of  supremacy  ;  and  His  name  being  Holy,  He  has 
dwelt  in  the  high  and  holy  place. 

1.  He  calls  our  attention,  first,  to  His  eternity  ;  for  this 
necessarily  preceded  the  external  manifestation  both  of  His 
supremacy  and  holiness,  and  can  itself  never  be  manifested. 
Far  back  in  thought,  and  beyond  the  limits  of  time,  as  we  may 
be  able  occasionally  and  for  a  single  moment  to  go,  we  are 
ever  accompanied  by  the  humbling  conviction  that  we  have 
made  no  approach  whatever  to  the  understanding  of  His 


DWELLING  AYITH  THE  CONTEITE  MAN.  89 

eternity.  The  discoveries  of  science  lead  back  our  imagina- 
.  tion  to  a  period  incalculably  remote ;  but  even  if  each  of 
the  countless  stars  had  been  formed  in  succession,  and  if 
the  time  which  elapsed  between  the  formation  of  each  had 
equalled  that  entire  period,  the  mind  which  could  sj^an  the 
whole,  which  could  dart  back  a  thought  to  the  moment  in 
which  the  first  star  beamed  on  the  regions  of  space,  would 
feel  that  he  had  only  reached  the  starting  point  for  the  pre- 
ceding eternity.  For  if  then  he  should  ask,  "  Where  dwelt 
the  Deity  before  that  ?"  the  answer  of  the  oracle  is,  "He 
inhabited  eternity  ;"  so  that  that  star,  of  which  he  had  caught 
a  glimpse,  could  only  be  regarded  as  the  first  lamp  that  was 
lighted  up  to  guide  the  way  back  to  His  dread  abode. 

Can  we  transport  ourselves  back,  in  thought,  beyond  that 
verge  of  creation  ?  How  shall  we  prepare  for  the  solemnity 
of  the  occasion  ?  Let  us  imagine  ourselves  to  have  been  left 
alone,  at  midnight,  within  the  veil  of  the  ancient  Jewish 
temple ;  and  with  the  awe  inspired  by  the  idea  of  being  there 
alone,  and  in  darkness,  with  the  present  God,  let  us  transport 
ourselves  back  beyond  the  limits  of  the  created,  till  we  find 
ourselves  alone  in  the  unseen  presence  of  the  Eternal  Un- 
create.  And,  oh  !  with  what  additional  dreadfulness  is  the 
majesty  of  this  darkness  invested  when  we  remember  that  it 
is  the  majesty  of  solitude.  He  has  inhabited  this  eternity 
alone.  Here  the  great  and  only  truth  which  He  may  be  re- 
garded as  silently  repeating  through  all  the  solitudes  of  space, 
and  through  every  point  of  duration,  is  the  sublime  affirma- 
tion, "lam,  underived,  self- existent,  absolute  Being  ;  in  which 
sense  there  never  has  been,  never  will,  never  can  be,  any 
being  besides.  All  other  being  can  only  have  leave  to  be." 
Here,  through  all  the  interminable  past,  wherever  he  looked. 
He  was — for  He  himself  was  immensity.  And  is  it  possible, 
we  may  imagine  ourselves  to  ask — is  it  possible  that  this  space 
will  ever  be  occupied  by  aught  besides  ?  Sun,  the  spot  where 
thou  wilt  stand,  and  Earth,  the  space  where  thou  wilt  roll, 
is  holy  ground.     It  is,  and  for  an  eternity  it  has  been,  oecu- 


40  THE  HIGH  AND  LOFTY  ONE 

pied  by  Him  who  will  be  your  ^Maker.  Here,  were  He  to 
break  the  universal  silence,  He  might  demand,  "  Is  there  a 
God  besides  me?  yea,  there  is  none;  I  know  not  any/'  I, 
that  know  all  the  possibilities  of  being  —  I,  who  at  this 
moment  am  everjrvvhere  present  throughout  illimitable  space, 
find  such  a  being  nowhere — I,  who  have  thus  inhabited  im- 
mensity from  eternity,  have  never,  in  any  point  of  past  dura- 
tion, beheld  the  least  manifestation  of  such  a  being — I,  that 
am  unlimited  Being,  exclude,  by  that  very  perfection  and  neces- 
sity of  my  nature,  the  possibility  of  another  unlimited  being. 

But  He  need  not  thus  speak  to  vindicate  His  claims,  for 
there  is  none  to  dispute  them.  In  imagination,  we  are 
standing  as  yet  in  the  solitudes  of  the  past  eternity.  The 
first  creative  fiat  has  not  yet  gone  forth.  Never  has  this 
stillness  been  broken.  No  ray  of  created  light  has  ever 
beamed  across  this  darkness.  This  infinite  space  has  never 
owned  a  world.  No  seraph  bows  before  His  throne.  What- 
ever is,  is  God — infinite  self-sufiicience.  Boundless  as  His 
capacity  for  happiness  must  always  have  been,  the  conscious- 
ness of  His  own  excellence,  and  the  contemj)lation  of  His 
own  perfections,  have  ever  been  sufficient  to  fill  it.  Un- 
limited and  unceasing  as  His  activity  has  ever  been,  His  own 
nature  has  been  sufficient  to  emj^loy  and  contain  the  whole. 
Dateless  in  His  duration,  the  postponement  of  creation  for 
ten  million  ages  would  not  have  increased  that  duration,  nor 
would  it  have  been  diminisiied  liad  the  fiat  gone  forth 
ten  million  ages  ago.  Unshared  as  His  eternity,  and  lonely 
as  His  immensity  may  appear  to  have  been.  His  self-commu- 
nion has  been  sufficient  to  occupy  and  replenish  the  whole 
with  infinite  happiness.  Whatever  is,  is  God.  Without  Him, 
even  eternity  would  not  have  been,  for  He  Himself  is  eter- 
nity.    He  is  the  only  and  the  all  of  being. 

2.  But  let  us  recross  the  boundary  of  time — let  us  su^:)- 
pose  the  first  creative  f^at  to  have  gone  forth — the  solitudes 
of  immensity  to  have  been  peoj^lcd  with  exalted  orders  of 
intelliofent  beings,  and  its  silence  broken  with  the  echoes  of 


DWELLING  WITH  THE  CONTFJTE  ]\IAN.  41 

their  praise.  Need  we  ask  the  rank  which  He  sustains  in 
relation  to  them  ?  The  infinite  superiority  of  His  own  nature 
determines  that — determines  that  it  is  the  reLation  of  supre- 
macy to  subordination — of  all-sufficiency  to  dependence. 
Hence  the  sentiment  of  the  text ;  for  where  should  the  high 
and  lofty  One  dwell,  but  in  the  high  and  holy  place  ?  How- 
ever vast  and  various  their  excellencies  may  be,  they  can 
never  forget  that  the  v/hole  is  derived,  that  it  existed  in  Him 
before  it  was  imparted  to  them,  that  it  is  limited,  so  that 
after  it  has  gone  on  augmenting  for  countless  ages,  they 
will  still  have  to  remember  that  it  is  infinitely  short  of  His 
excellence.  Hov»^ever  much  they  may  be  able  to  compre- 
hend of  what  He  is,  from  what  He  has  done  since  He  began 
to  create,  they  will  ever  have  to  remember  that  all  the  eter- 
nity of  His  past  glory  remains  unexplored  ;  and  that,  as  they 
cannot  fathom  the  abyss  of  His  ijresent  perfections,  the 
mystery  of  His  nature  is  hourly  augmenting  in  their  hands  ; 
that  time  is  adding  its  mystery  to  the  mystery  of  the  past 
eternity,  and  that  the  mystery  of  both  is  to  be  carried  for- 
wards to  the  still  greater  account  of  the  eternity  to  come. 
They  will  feel— His  most  intelligent  creatures  will  feel — that 
after  they  shall  have  continued  to  advance  through  inter- 
minable ages  from  throne  to  throne,  and  from  one  height  of 
glory  to  a  higher  still,  the  loftiest  summit  will  only  give 
them  a  more  enlarged  and  commanding  prospect  of  His 
boundless  perfection. 

Oh,  could  we  ascend  and  obtain  a  view  of  those  thrones 
towering  above  thrones,  and,  having  scaled  an  unknown 
height,  could  we  then  see  others  loftier  still,  stretching  away 
beyond  our  furthest  sight,  what  should  we  behold  but  a  few 
of  the  lowest  of  the  steps  which  lead  up  to  His  throne  ?  He 
speaks,  and  the  most  exalted  of  the  principalities  look  up  to 
Him  and  feel  that  there  is  but  One  High  and  Lofty;  that, 
compared  with  Him,  all  created  height  is  His  footstool,  all 
other  dignity  is  seated  in  the  dust.  He  looks  on  them,  and 
they  feel  that  "  He  humbleth  himself  to  behold  the  things 


42  THE  HIGH  AND  LOFTY  ONE 

that  are  in  heaven/'  Lofty  as  their  natures  and  counth?ss 
as  tlieir  myriads  may  be,  there  is  a  sense  in  whicli  He  must 
ever  continue  to  dwell  as  perfectly  alone  through  the  eternity 
to  come,  as  He  did  in  the  sublime  and  appalling  solitude  of 
the  eternity  past.  He  still  iuhabiteth  eternity.  It  is  the 
only  habitation  which  suits  His  infinite  greatness.  He  can 
never  come  forth  from  it,  so  as  to  bring  Himself  within 
created  limits.  On  account  of  His  incomparable  greatness, 
never  will  He  be  able  to  bring  Himself  within  the  compre- 
hension of  His  loftiest  creatures.  Eetired  within  the  depths 
of  His  own  immensity,  they  will  never  be  able  to  approach 
and  behold  Him  directhj.  For  all  they  know  of  Him,  they 
will  ever  feel  tliat  they  are  indebted  to  a  medium  of  His  own 
devising,  and  that,  without  that  medium,  the  whole  created 
universe,  including  themselves,  would  only  have  constituted 
a  living  a.ltar  with  this  inscription,  "To  the  unknown  God." 

3.  But  besides  His  existence  as  Eternal  and  His  rank  as 
Supreme,  he  proclaims  His  character  as  Holy — as  the  Being 
whose  very  ncime  is  Holy,  and  His  name  is  His  nature.  What 
the  moral  character  of  Jehovah  might  j)rove  to  be,  was  a 
question  (if  we  can  suppose  there  ever  was  a  moment  when 
it  yet  remained  to  be  disclosed  to  His  intelligent  creatures)  of 
the  deepest  interest,  of  the  last  importance.  That  He  in- 
habited eternity  they  knew  ;  for  had  there  ever  been  a  period 
when  He  was  not,  He  would  not  now  have  been  ;  but  had  He 
filled  the  past  eternity  with  good  or  with  evil  ?  That  He  was 
the  high  and  lofty  One  they  saw,  and  this  gave  an  infinite 
interest  to  the  question,  What  will  be  the  character  of  His 
government  ?  Will  it  be  a  dominion  of  law  or  of  force  ?  and 
if  of  law,  what  will  be  its  nature  ?  What  will  be  punished, 
what  rewarded  ?  Tell  us.  What  have  we  to  expect  ?  Eternity 
is  before  us — what  awaits  us  in  that  boundless  future  ?  Oh, 
that  we  knew  tlie  character  of  God,  that  we  might  at  least 
conjecture  what  He  has  stored  up  for  us  there. 

But  even  supposing,  I  say,  there  was  ever  a  moment  when 
this  vast  disclosure  remained  to  be  made  to  His  intelliojent 


DWELLING  WITH  THE  CONTRITE  MAN.  43 

creatures,  it  could  not  have  been  for  more  than  a  moment. 
They  had  only  to  look  within  in  order  to  perceive  that  they 
themselves  were  made  for  holiness.  They  had  only  to  listen 
in  order  to  hear  Him  saying  perpetually,  "  Be  ye  holy,  for  I 
am  holy.''  They  had  only  to  examine  His  character  in  order 
to  see  that  holiness  sums  up  all  His  attributes ;  that  He  loves 
holiness  for  itself;  that  He  has  nothing  to  hope,  and  yet  He 
is  holy — nothing  to  fear,  and  yet  He  is  holy;  that  He 
and  holiness  are  one.  They  had  only  to  study  the  con- 
stitution of  the  universe  in  order  to  see  that  all  its  parts 
are  simply  that  holiness  put  into  visible  forms — all  its  laws 
the  same  holiness  drawn  out  and  put  into  harmonious 
activit}^  They  had  only — oh !  fearful  experiment — they  had 
only  to  sin,  even  in  thought,  and  all  the  order  of  nature  v/as 
throT\^i  into  confusion;  the  universe  armed  to  resist  the 
infraction,  and  holiness  flamed  forth  in  a  consuming  fire — a 
fire  which  ceased  to  flame  in  heaven  only  on  the  condition 
that  it  midit  kindle  and  burn  on  in  hell  for  ever — a  fire 
never  to  be  quenched !  Oh,  where  shall  such  holiness  dwell 
but  in  the  high  and  holy  place?  Where  shall  it  dwell  when 
the  heavens  are  not  clean  in  its  sight?  Who  shall  dvv'ell 
with  it  when  even  the  angels  in  its  sight  are  charged  with 
folly?  Hath  the  temple  of  the  universe  a  holy  of  holies — 
not  merely  a  holy  place,  but  a  thrice  holy — the  holiest  of  all? 
That  is  the  appropriate  residence  of  Him  "  vvdiose  name  is 
holy;''  and  the  only  condition  on  which  He  will  make  even 
that  His  peculiar  residence  is,  that  sin  be  kept  at  an  infinite 
distance  from  it — that  there  be  a  hell  to  receive  and  imprison 
it;  and  the  only  condition  on  which  even  His  holiest  creatures 
are  allowed  to  dwell  with  Him  there  is  (indeed  He  has  made 
it  a  law  of  their  nature),  that  they  shall  never  for  a  moment 
remain  at  a  stand  in  holiness,  but  be  ever  advancing  to  higher 
and  higher  degrees.  And  when  they  begin  to  praise  His 
holiness,  they  feel  as  if  they  could  never  satisfy  themselves 
with  the  adoring  exclamation,  "  Holy,  holy,  holy  is  the  Lord 
God  Almighty!"     And  when  He  calls  them  nearer  to  His 


44j  the  high  and  lofty  one 

throne,  tliey  can  see  but  one  sight — that  He  is  glorious  in 
holiness.  And  when  He  calls  them  nearer  still,  a  single  look 
overpowers  them,  and  the  wing  which  has  taken  them  there 
veils  their  faces  as  they  fall  j^rostrate  before  Him. 

Such  is  the  awful  yet  glorious  Being  who  speaks  in  the 
text.  And  do  we  not  see  that  His  object  in  speaking  is  to 
impress  us  with  the  great  truth  we  are  so  prone  to  forget, 
that  from  eternity  His  residence  has  always  corresponded 
with  His  nature  and  perfections;  nay,  more,  has  been  onade 
hy  them?  His  residence  and  His  relations  have  received 
their  character  entirely  from  His  character.  Even  man,  one 
of  His  creatures,  can  say,  "The  mind  is  its  own  2)lace;'' 
imparts  its  own  character  to  it — sheds  its  own  hue  over  sur- 
rounding objects — is  its  own  heaven  or  its  own  hell.  And 
shall  the  prerogative  of  the  Infinite  Mind  be  inferior?  "  'No," 
saith  He,  "  without  Lie  there  would  have  been  no  eternity, 
for  there  would  have  been  none  to  inhabit  it;  without  Me 
there  would  have  been  no  Suj^reme,  for  there  would  have 
been  no  subordinate;  without  Me  there  would  have  been 
nothing  high,  nothing  holi/,  for  there  would  have  been  no 
standard  either  of  height  or  of  excellence.  Without  being 
subjected  to  the  succession  of  time,  it  is  I  alone  who  give 
existence  to  duration ;  without  being  confined  to  place,  it  is 
I  who  give  locality  to  space,  and  it  is  I  who  impart  a  character 
to  the  j^lace  where  I  choose  to  be  known.  By  the  perfection 
of  Lly  nature  I  am  ]\Iy  own  place  and  the  centre  of  all  I  have 
made,  so  that  everything  is  according  as  it  is  related  to  Me.'' 

n. 

Then,  secondly,  if  He  condescend  to  hold  intercourse  with 
man,  it  can  only  be  in  harmony  with  the  same  principle.  He 
has  not  one  principle  for  one  world  and  another  j^rincij^le  for 
another.  He  knows  nothing  of  the  temporizing  and  shifting 
policy  of  man.  The  doctrine  of  exj)ediency  has  no  place  in 
His  administration.  Ascertain  the  law  which  regulates  His 
conduct  in  any  one  particular,  and  you  will  find  that  it  regu- 


DWELLING  WITH  THE  CONTEITE  MAN.  45 

lates  His  conduct  in  every  other  particular  of  the  same  chiss. 
Select  any  one  j^rinciple  of  His  conduct,  and  you  will  find 
that,  like  Himself,  it  is  from  everlasting  to  everlasting,  that 
it  is  on  its  way  from  one  eternity  to  another;  and  all  this 
owing  to  that  infinite  perfection  of  His  nature  which  neither 
requires  nor  admits  of  a  change. 

Now,  this  is  the  principle  on  which  He  comes  forth  in  the 
text  and  demands  an  audience  from  His  people,  leaving  them 
to  infer  from  what  He  states,  three  things : — the  folly  of  sup- 
posing that  He  could  be  influenced,  in  His  intercourse  with 
them,  by  the  low  considerations  which  regulate  their  inter- 
course with  each  other:  the  reasonableness  of  His  selcctino- 
the  humble  and  the  contrite  as  the  objects  of  His  regard;  and 
the  depth  of  His  condescension  and  grace  in  regarding  even 
these. 

1.  Why  is  it,  think  you,  that  He  comes  forth  and  gives  us 
this  description  of  Himself?  Why,  but  to  shew  us  that,  if 
He  condescends  to  hold  any  intercourse  with  us,  the  terms  of 
that  intercourse  must  be  prescribed  entirely  by  Himself 
You  judge  (as  if  He  had  said)  of  what  a  fellow-creature  may- 
expect  from  you  by  his  titles  ;  hear  my  titles, — ''  Jehovah, 
the  High  and  Lofty  One  that  inhabiteth  eternity,  whose 
name  is  Holy.''  What  distinction  can  you  add  to  them?  You 
estimate  a  mortal's  rank  by  the  remoteness  of  his  ancestry — 
I  am  the  First,  the  unoriginated  Being.  "  Gird  up  now  thy 
loins  like  a  man;  for  I  will  demand  of  thee,  and  answer  thou 
me.  Where  wast  thou  when  I  laid  the  foundations  of  the 
earth?"  Cast  a  look  if  thou  canst  at  the  abyss  of  eternity — 
that  was  Mine  abode.  "  Before  the  mountains  were  brondit 
forth,  or  ever  I  had  formed  the  earth  and  the  w^orld,  even 
from  everlasting  to  everlasting,  I  am  God.''  You  judge  of  a 
mortal's  rank  by  the  mansion  he  inhabits,  and,  on  occasion, 
you  prepare  for  his  reception  accordingly.  There  is  a  place 
which,  since  time  began,  I  choose  to  designate  as  the  2:>lace 
of  My  abode.  I  dwell  in  the  high  and  holy  place.  But 
could  you  hope  to  scale  its  heights  when  the  distance  of  the 


46  THE  HIGH  AND  LOFTY  ONE 

nearest  star  defies  your  utmost  ^Dowers  of  imagination?  Could 
you  hope  to  sm^ive  the  siglit  of  its  splendours,  when  even  the 
sun,  a  created  spark,  dazzles  and  confounds  your  gaze?  You 
can  be  awed  by  the  presence  of  even  human  worth;  what, 
then^  should  you  feel  in  the  presence  of  Him  whose  tiame  is 
holy — who,  if  He  looks  on  iniquity,  can  only  look  on  it  to 
scorch  and  wither  it  up?  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  The  heaven  is 
my  throne,  and  tlie  earth  is  my  footstool;  where  is  the  house 
that  ye  build  unto  me?  and  where  is  the  place  of  my  rest? 
For  all  those  things  hath  mine  hands  made,  and  all  those 
things  have  been,  saith  tlie  Lord/'  You  think  of  erecting 
a  tem23le  w^hicli  shall  attract  the  Majesty  of  heaven  by  its 
splendours,  as  if  you  should  invite  a  monarch  to  descend  from 
his  throne  by  gilding  his  footstool.  On  account  of  His  great- 
ness, you  would  enlarge  its  dimensions?  But  do  not  I  fill 
heaven  and  earth?  saith  the  Lord.  On  account  of  His 
grandeur,  you  would  multiply  its  priests  and  bedizen  them 
with  costly  robes.  Think  of  His  state  and  retinue  above, 
where  His  train  filleth  the  temple,  where  thousand  thousands 
minister  unto  Him,  and  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand 
stand  before  Him  1  On  account  of  His  supremacy,  you  would 
multiply  His  sacrifices.  "Will  I  eat  tJie  flesh  of  bulls?'' 
saith  God,  "  or  drink  the  blood  of  goats?"  Multiply  them  as 
you  will,  set  all  Lebanon  in  a  blaze,  and  offer  uj)  all  its  herds 
as  a  burnt-ofiering,  still  He  can  say,  "  Every  beast  of  the 
forest  is  mine,  and  the  cattle  upon  a  thousand  hills."  Offer 
up  the  whole  material  vrorld,  and  He  could  say,  "  The  world 
is  mine,  and  the  fulness  thereof"  Mine  before  you  or  your 
race  came  into  existence;  ^line  by  the  highest  right — the 
right  of  creation. — Oh,  the  folly  of  suj^posing  that  the  lavoiir 
of  Lifinite  Excellence  could  be  propitiated  by  material  gifts, 
or  the  presence  of  the  Omnipresent  God  could  be  limited  to 
any  circle  that  we  could  draw! 

But  because  man  may  have  convicted  himself  of  folly  in 
these  respects,  is  he,  therefore,  to  retire  mortified  and  in  de- 
spair of  ever  securing  the  Divine  presence  ?     Let  us  hear  what 


DWELLING  WITH  THE  CONTEITE  ]\IAN.  47 

God  the  Lord  will  yet  say  to  iis  ?  He  has  informed  iis  of 
His  eternal  abode,  of  His  supremacy,  and  of  His  excellence, 
and  yet  He  is  speaking.  "  Thus  saith  the  High  and  Lofty 
One  that  inhabiteth  eternity,  whose  name  is  Holy,  I  dwell  in 
the  high  and  holy  place  ; ''  and  as  He  says  this.  His  eye  is 
running  to  and  fro  in  the  earth,  wandering  over  halls,  and 
palaces,  and  gilded  domes,  till,  settling  complacently  on  an 
object  in  the  dust,  he  adds,  "with  him  also  that  is  of  a  con- 
trite and  humble  spirit/'  AVhat  !  and  is  it  a  small  thmg  with 
God  to  tell  us  this — that  He  should  couple  these  two  expres- 
sions together — that  He  dwells  with  the  high  and  the  holy, 
and  with  the  low  and  the  broken-hearted  ?  What !  is  the 
transition  from  that  height  to  that  depth  nothing  to  Him, 
that  He  speaks  of  it  in  one  sentence — in  the  same  breath  ? 
"  With  him  also '' — as  if  it  made  little  or  no  difference  to 
His  greatness  whether  He  dwelt  there  or  here.  Whereas  we 
have  been  endeavouring  to  shew  that  all  the  magnificence  of 
earth  is  as  nothing  on  account  of  the  superior  magnificence  of 
heaven ;  but  we  find  that  in  a  sense  we  have  erred,  for  even 
the  magnificence  of  heaven  itself  is  as  nothing  in  His  sight. 
Irrespective  of  all  such  considerations,  He  tells  us  that  He 
dwells  there  or  here  ahke.  While  we  are  losing  ourselves  in 
wonder  at  His  condescension  in  commmiing  with  a  prostrate 
child  of  the  dust.  He  would  have  us  to  carry  our  wonder  fur- 
ther back  than  that,  to  the  amazing  fact  that  He  should  com- 
mune with  any  of  His  creatures.  He  would  have  us  to  know 
that  the  wonder  is  that  He  should  be  found  in  intercourse 
with  the  spirits  of  heaven  ;  but  having  stooped  to  that,  it  re- 
quires but  a  very  slight  degree  of  condescension  more  to  stoop 
to  man ;  that  however  lofty  they  may  appear  to  us,  and  how- 
ever near  to  His  throne  they  may  seem  to  be  as  viewed  from 
earth,  as  viewed  from  the  height  of  His  throne,  man  is  but 
"  a  little  lower  than  the  angels  " — loth  are  nearly  on  a  level. 
"  Who  is  like  unto  the  Lord  our  God,  who  dwelleth  on  high, 
who  humbleth  himself  to  behold  the  things  that  are  in  heaven, 
and  that  are  in  earth  ! '' 


48  THE  HIGH  AND  LOFTY  ONE 

2.  Now  having  thus  humbled  Himself,  we  see  the  reason- 
ableness of  His  selecting  the  humble  and  the  contrite  as  the 
objects  of  His  Divine  regard.  It  is  only  such  that  are  j^repared 
to  receive  Him.  Every  other  description  of  character  is  i^repared 
to  resist  His  coming,  or  to  give  Him  only  a  feigned  welcome. 
As  the  infinite  and  eternal  Spirit,  He  comes  to  commune 
with  our  spirit ;  but  in  the  case  of  every  class  except  the 
humble,  He  finds  the  ground  already  occuj)ied,  and  He  has  to 
stand  at  the  door  and  knock.  As  the  High  and  the  Lofty 
One,  He  comes  to  have  His  supremacy  recognized,  to  receive 
us  at  His  footstool ;  but  all  except  the  humble  are  seated  on 
little  thrones  of  their  own,  and  will  not  come  down  to  receive 
Him.  As  the  Being  ivhose  name  is  Holy,  He  comes  to  imprint 
on  us  the  likeness  of  His  own  image  ;  but  none  save  the 
humble  and  those  melted  in  contrition  are  in  a  state  to  receive 
the  sacred  impress.  He  comes  to  he  honoured,  aj^preciated, 
adored  ;  but  all  save  the  humble  are  busied  in  asserting  their 
own  little  claims — are,  in  effect,  prepared  to  quarrel  with  His 
supremacy,  and  to  j^luck  at  His  sceptre.  Can  we  wonder, 
then,  that  if  He  comes  to  commune  with  us,  His  abode  should 
be  with  the  humble?  Where  should  goodness  dwell  but 
with  gratitude  ?  Where  should  the  fulness  of  the  Creator 
pour  itself  forth  but  into  the  emptiness  of  the  creature  ? 

3.  But  will  He  commune  even  with  the  contrite  ?  For 
here  the  question  arises,  the  wonder  presents  itself,  that  He 
should  condescend  even  to  this.  And  what  part  of  His  con- 
duct towards  us  is  not  marked  with  condescension  ?  And 
what  part  of  His  condescension  is  not  a  wonder,  an  abyss  of 
wonder?  Ascend  to  the  first  act — that  he  should  in  any 
sense  have  come  forth  from  the  depths  of  His  eternity,  that 
He  should  have  deigned  to  be  a  Creator,  that  He  should  have 
put  off  from  Him  the  glory  in  which  He  had  been  eternally 
enshrined,  laying  aside  an  eternal  weight  of  it,  in  order  to 
create,  that  He  should  descend  to  be  omnipotent  for  such 
a  purpose,  and  then  that,  having  made  creatures.  He  should 
vouchsafe  to  be  called  supreme  in  relation  to  such  creatures 


DWELLING  WITH  THE  CONTrxITE  I^IAN.  4.9 

to  beings  the  highest  of  whom  is,  by  necessity  of  nature,  infi- 
nitely below  Him— to  stoop  to  such  grandeur  is  itself  con- 
descension ;  and  then  that  He  should  submit  to  be  worshipped 
—worshipped  by  beings  who  will  never  be  able  to  comprehend 
Him,  never  be  able  to  think  of  more  than  one  part  of  His 
character,  or  of  one  illustration  of  His  character,  at  a  time, 
so  that  at  the  moment  when  they  are  most  lost  in  admiration 
by  thinking  of  that  one,  all  the  other  myriad  illustrations  of 
His  character  will  be  unthought  of,  and  after  they  shall  have 
been  enlarging  their  conceptions  of  His  glory  for  myriads  of 
years,  that  they  should  still  have  to  remember  that  what  they 
know  of  Him  is  as  nothing  compared  with  what  remains  to 
be  known  of  Him  ! 

But  this  is  only  the  first  stage  in  the  history  of  His  con- 
descension. All  this  applies,  and  might  be  confined  to,  the 
unsinning  angels.  All  this,  the  anxious  penitent  may  say- 
all  this  I  can  believe.  But  what  if,  after  His  condescending 
to  make  a  creature,  that  creature  should  labour  to  unmake 
himself,  or  to  make  himself  something  essentially  different 
from  what  he  was  ?  What  if,  after  His  condescending  to 
allow  Himself  to  be  worshipped,  that  creature  should  refuse  to 
worship  Him — should  worship  other  objects  even  in  His  very 
presence,  worship  himself  rather— should  labour  to  forget 
Him,  and  failing  in  that,  should  fill  with  enmity  against  ffim 
—what  could  then  be  expected,  what  could  condescension 
itself  do  in  such  a  case  ? 

AYhat  miglit  have  been  expected  we  know  ;  and  it  is  that 
which  makes  vrhat  He  has  done  so  amazing.  That  He  should 
have  stooped  to  ask  for  a  hearing,  in  a  world  filled  vdih.  the 
noisy  praises  of  itself  and  its  idols  ;  that  amidst  that  din, 
He,  the  High  and  the  Lofty  One,  should  have  deigned  to 
rei^ublish  the  forgotten  fact  of  His  own  existence,  and  to 
recapitulate  his  titles;  that  He  whose  heaven  is  one  vast 
temple,  sacred  throughout  to  His  worship,  should  command 
the  erection  of  a  house  on  earth,  where  He  knew  that  idolatry 
would  come  up  to  its  very  doors,  and  even  obtrude  into  His 


50  THE  HIGH  AND  LOFTY  ONE 

presence ;  and  that  then,  when  the  crisis  required,  when  jus- 
tice demanded  the  sinner  himself  or  a  substitute,  that  that 
substitute  should  have  been  found  in  the  person  of  Him  who, 
being  in  the  form  of  God,  thought  it  no  robbery  to  be  equal 
with  God — that  the  Invisible  himself  should  have  assumed  a 
material  form,  taking  up  the  very  dust  we  trod  on  into  His 
mysterious  person — that  the  Supreme  should  have  become 
subordinate,  subjecting  Himself  to  His  own  laws,  voluntarily 
placing  Himself  at  the  bar  of  justice  in  our  stead,  laying  bare 
His  own  bosom,  and  inviting  the  stroke  which  should  have 
fallen  ujDon  us,  bowing  His  head  and  becoming  obedient  unto 
death,  even  the  death  of  the  cross, — this  is  a  scale  of  conde- 
scension in  which  we  behold  Him  stooping  lower  and  lower 
still,  till  He  has  reached  a  point  where  even  inspiration  itself 
stands  lost  in  wonder,  and  can  only  find  relief  in  adoring 
exclamations,  exclamations  which  are  among  the  most  wel- 
come parts  of  the  Word  of  God — "  Lord,  what  is  man,  that 
thou  art  mindful  of  him  ?  Herein  is  love  !  Thanks  be  imto 
God  for  His  unspeakable  gift ! '"' 

Here,  then,  the  question  is  answered  ;  the  amazing  fact, 
that  the  High  and  Lofty  One  will  come  and  commune  with 
the  contrite  sinner,  is  demonstrated.  An  arch  is  thrown 
across  the  mighty  gulf  of  separation,  or  rather  the  gailf  itself 
is  filled  up,  and  thus  the  very  means  of  commmiication  be- 
tween God  and  man  become  both  the  proof  and  the  pledge 
that  it  can  and  shall  be  maintained.  And  here,  too,  as 
before,  we  see  that  the  residence  of  God  not  only  corresponds 
with  His  glorious  character,  hut  that  it  is  literally  made  hy  it. 
For  what  is  it  but  the  sight  of  that  Majesty  which  produces 
this  humility,  prostrating  itself  and  exclaiming,  "  Now  mine 
eye  seeth  thee,  behold,  I  am  vile  ! ''  What  is  it  but  the  sight 
of  that  spotless  purity  which  produces  the  anguish  that  smites 
on  its  breast  and  exclaims,  "God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner !'" 
And  oh,  that  cross — when  every  other  means  has  failed,  how 
often  at  the  sight  of  that  has  obduracy  itself  dissolved  into 
penitence,  and  pride  put  on  the  sackcloth  of  humility,  and  the 


DWELLING  WITH  THE  CONTEITE  MAN.  51 

new  creature,  taking  a  survey  of  all  created  good,  collecting 
it  all  together,  and  then  relinquishing  the  whole,  trampling 
it  all  in  the  dust,  has  exclaimed,  "  God  forbid  that  I  should 
glory,  save  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  by  v/hom 
the  world  is  crucified  unto  me,  and  I  unto  the  world  1 '" 

III. 

Now,  from  this  it  follows,  thirdly,  that  no  religious  worship 
can  be  acceptable  to  God,  except  as  it  harmonizes  with  the 
character  of  God.  Indeed,  if  this  harmony  were  not  neces- 
sary— if  the  individual  or  the  Church  could  obtain  access  to 
God  without  such  harmony  with  His  character,  it  luoidd  not, 
could  not  conduce  to  their  real  advantage.  That  in  which 
the  happiness  of  our  spiritual  nature  consists  must  be  some- 
thing congenial  to  that  nature,  and  something  which  is 
capable  of  imparting  itself  to  that  nature.  Sensual  pleasures 
cannot  do  this,  they  can  only  touch  the  grosser  elements  of 
our  susceptibility,  they  cannot  pass  in  and  penetrate  to  our 
interior  being,  are  not  subtle  enough  to  blend  with  our 
spiritual  essence.  All  the  opulence  and  resources  of  earth 
in  this  respect  are  indigence  itself,  leaving  us  to  pine  and 
languish  in  the  midst  of  plenty.  But  God,  as  he  is  a  Spirit, 
is  both  congenial  with  the  nature  of  His  spiritual  offspring, 
and  is  capable  of  imparting  Himself  to  them,  opening  to 
them  fresh  views  of  His  excellence,  awakening  in  them  fresh 
sensations  of  delight,  breathing  into  them  His  own  Spirit, 
making  them  partakers  of  the  Divine  nature. 

But,  as  we  have  already  intimated — and  as,  indeed,  the 
text  implies — the  first  question  to  be  considered,  when  God 
and  man  are  to  be  brought  together,  is,  not  what  is  suitable 
for  man,  but  what  is  becoming  for  God.  If  each  party  re- 
quires certain  conditions,  surely  the  requirements  of  the 
superior  nature  should  be  considered  before  those  of  the 
inferior  —  especially  too  when  that  superiority  is  infinite. 
Now,  if  all  the  diversified  forms  which  religion  has  ever 
assumed  were  to  be  divided  into  two  classes,  it  would  be 


52  THE  HIGH  AND  LOFTY  ONE 

found  that  this  consideration  involves  the  great  principle  of 
their  distinction.  All  the  rites,  forms,  and  ceremonies  by 
which  the  worship  of  God  has  been  overlaid — all  the  idolatry 
of  Paganism,  and  all  the  corruj^tion  of  the  true  religion — all 
the  Phariseeism  of  the  former  economy,  and  all  the  Popery 
of  the  present — have  arisen  from  considering  what  man 
would  be  pleased  v/ith,  rather  than  what  would  be  pleasing 
to  God. 

Not,  indeed,  that  God,  in  the  worship  which  he  has  pre- 
scribed, has  left  our  nature  unconsidered,  or  the  necessities 
of  that  nature  unconsulted.  The  incarnation  of  the  Son  of 
God  himself  was  intended,  partl}^  to  meet  that  great  want 
of  our  compound  nature — the  want  of  a  palpable  definite 
object  on  which  our  imagination  could  settle,  and  on  which 
our  affections  could  rest  awhile  in  their  upward  ascent  to 
God.  But  then  the  great  difference  between  God's  method 
of  consulting  our  wants,  in  this  respect,  and  man's,  is  that, 
while  man's  method  detains  the  mind  and  prevents  it  from 
rising  to  God,  the  means  which  God  employs  are  intended 
and  calculated  to  lead  us  on  to  Him  as  the  end.  And  the 
reason  of  this  is  that,  even  in  consulting  what  we  require,  He 
has  first  considered  what  He  himself  required.  In  consulting 
on  the  great  question  of  our  restoration,  He  had  first  to  con- 
sider how  He  could  consistently  allov/  it.  Man  had  changed, 
but  Immutability  could  not  alter  on  that  account.  Man  had 
transgressed — was  the  great  Lawgiver  therefore  to  repeal  His 
laws,  descend  from  His  throne,  and  abandon  His  govern- 
ment ?  Man  had  fallen  out  of  his  place,  had  wandered  from 
his  orbit — was  the  Great  Centre  of  Being  therefore  to  leave 
His  position,  and  to  follow  him  in  his  eccentric  course?  The 
first  thing  to  be  considered  was,  what  was  suitable  for  God  to 
do  ?  And  do  you  not  see  that  to  this  it  is  that  Christianity 
is  indebted  for  all  its  peculiarity  and  glory  ?  that,  if  it  has  an 
atonement,  it  is  because  the  justice  of  God  required  it  ?  that, 
if  it  has  a  ^lediator  between  God  and  man,  it  is  first  and 
chiefly  because  the  holiness  of  God  requires  it  ?  that,  if  it 


DWELLING  WITH  THE  CONTRITE  MAN.  53 

provides  tlie  agency  of  the  Spirit,  it  is  principally  because 
Divine  immntability  and  perfection  recpiire  that  the  sinner 
should  be  conformed  to  God,  and  not  God  to  the  sinner ! 
And  do  you  not  see,  do  you  not  with  an  apostle  admire, 
how  He  hath  abounded  towards  us  in  all  wisdom  and  pru- 
dence, in  making  one  and  the  same  arrangement  to  answer 
both  the  requirements  of  His  own  nature  and  the  necessities 
of  ours  ?  Well  for  us  was  it,  that  He  first  considered  what 
He  Himself  required  ;  since,  in  providing  for  that,  He  has 
more  effectually  j^rovided  for  our  necessities  than  as  if  he  had 
made  them  the  primary  subject  of  consideration.  Well  for 
us  is  it,  that  He  determined  first  that  He  would  be  a  just 
God,  for  that  has  made  Him  the  most  glorious  Saviour ;  that 
He  required  an  atonement  in  order  to  our  justification,  for 
that  has  at  the  same  time  provided  the  most  glorious  means 
for  our  sanctification,  and  all  those  cords  of  love  by  which 
He  can  draw  us  back  again  to  Himself. 

1.  Hence  it  is,  I  repeat,  that  the  state  of  each  individual 
mind,  and  the  collective  worship  of  the  Chmxh,  can  be  accept- 
able to  God  only  as  it  harmonizes  with  His  character.  If 
supremacy  comes  here,  He  expects  to  behold  subordination, 
and  what  is  that  but  humility  ?  He  asks  not  that  we  should 
think  of  ourselves  below  what  we  really  are,  that  we  should 
attempt  anything  like  self-annihilation,  but  simply  that  we 
should  conform  our  views  to  our  condition,  that  we  should 
take  that  estimate  of  our  character  and  wants  which  He 
Himself  entertains.  This  is  the  humility  of  heaven,  for 
himiility  does  not  necessarily  and  of  itself  imply  a  sense  ot 
guilt.  Angels  are  among  the  most  humble  of  His  creatures, 
for  they  never  lose  sight  of  their  entitle  dependence  on  Him. 
And  the  greatest  example  of  excellence  which  earth  ever 
saw,  though  unstained  by  a  single  pollution,  could  say,  "  I 
am  meek  and  lowly  of  heart.''  But  if  humility  be  a  virtue 
among  the  angels  of  God,  if  it  was  eminently  exemplified  in 
the  Son  of  God,  how  important  is  it  that  lue  should  be 
hmnble.      If  they  who  have  no  sins  to  deplore,  who  are 


54j  the  high  and  lofty  one 

spotless  as  tlie  throne  of  God,  are  yet  distingnisliecl  by 
humility,  how  humble  should  we  be  who  owe  our  ruin  to  our 
pride,  who  are  dependent,  not  now  on  goodness  merely,  but 
on  mercy  and  long-sufTering,  wlio  cannot  easily  think  too 
meanly  of  ourselves ! 

2.  Humility  is  not  enough  for  man.  If  they  who  have 
never  sinned  are  humble,  more  than  humility  must  be  proper 
for  man — there  must  be  contrition  also.  Now  the  text 
implies  this  :  it  intimates  that  if  the  High  and  Holy  One 
comes  amongst  us,  He  expects  to  be  received  amidst  the 
sighs  of  penitence  and  the  tears  of  godly  sorrow.  A  spirit 
of  self-sufficiency  and  self-dependence  has  been  our  ruin; 
He  expects,  therefore,  that  before  He  begins  to  do  anything 
towards  our  j^ersonal  recovery,  we  should  be  prepared  to 
descend  from  the  pedestal  our  pride  has  erected,  and  should 
cast  ourselves  down  at  His  feet.  The  real  value  of  that 
humble  penitence  which  He  requires,  consists  in  its  inducing 
us  to  deske  and  welcome  the  assistance  we  need — to  abandon 
ourselves  cordially  to  the  Divine  direction — to  descend,  and 
gratefully  to  occupy  our  proper  station  at  His  footstool,  as 
pensioners  on  His  grace.  There  is  a  sense  in  which  God 
himself  sorrows  on  account  of  our  sin — and  the  death  of 
Christ  is  His  expression  of  that  sorrow — the  amazing  sacri- 
fice of  His  only-begotten  Son  was  the  only  adequate  expres- 
sion of  that  sorrow.  If  He  comes  amongst  us,  therefore,  He 
expects  to  find  us  collected  around  the  Cross — looking  upon 
Him  whom  we  have  pierced,  and  mourning — mingling  our 
tears  with  His — feeling  with  Him  on  the  great  subject  of 
sin — Avith  hearts  broken  and  contrite,  and  refusing  to  be 
healed  by  any  balm  but  His  precious  blood,  to  be  bound 
up  by  any  hand  but  His,  to  be  made  whole  by  any  influ- 
ence but  the  distinct  and  cheering  assurance  of  His  forgiving 
love. 

3.  But  more — if  this  voice  of  mercy  is  to  be  heard — if 
He  c(5mes  amongst  us  to  address  us,  He  exj)ects  that  we 
should  tremble  at  His  v»rord — that  is,  that  our  hearts  should 


DWELLING  WITH  THE  CONTEITE  MAN.  55 

vibrate  and  respond  to  every  accent  Ee  utters — that  if  He 
says  to  us,  "  Seek  ye  my  face,"  onr  hearts  should  instantly 
reply,  "  Thy  face,  Lord,  will  we  seek."  He  comes  amongst 
us  to  reimpress  on  our  hearts  tlie  heavenly  image  of  Himselt^ 
which  sin  had  effaced;  but  if  the  seal  is  to  impress,  the 
wax  must  be  melted  ;  and  the  design  of  that  penitence  which 
He  looks  for  is,  that  the  heart  may  be  softened,  and  in  a 
state  to  take  the  sacred  impress  of  His  every  feature.  Is  He 
absolutely  supreme  ? — the  corresponding  impression  on  our 
heart  must  be  a  most  profound  self-subjection.  Is  He  infinitely 
self-sufficient  and  all-sufncicnt  ? — our  impression  must  be 
that  of  self-emptiness,  disposing  us  to  quit  ourselves,  and  to 
live  in  Him.  Does  He  remind  us  of  His  holiness? — the 
emotion  answering  to  that  must  be  .£:odly  soitow  afc  the  per- 
ception of  our  unlikeness  to  Him,  and  earnest  desires  for  His 
transforming  spirit.  Faithfulness  in  Him  must  be  answered 
by  trust  in  us.  Grace  in  Him  must  be  answered  by  grati- 
tude, love,  and  obedience  in  us.  Every  excellence  in  His 
character  must  be  ansv\^ered  by  a  corresponding  excellence 
in  ours. 

But  if  the  very  perfection  of  His  nature  makes  this  corre- 
spondence necessary,  so  also,  do  the  wants  and  the  well-being 
of  our  nature.  Everything  in  creation  trembles  and  responds 
to  the  voice  of  God  but  the  stony  heart  of  man ;  and  the 
welfare  of  everything  depends  on  its  power  thus  to  respond. 
"  The  Lord,"  says  the  Psalmist,  "  uttereth  His  voice,  the 
earth  trembles  and  shakes  " — inanimate  nature  involuntarily 
replies  to  His  every  word.  And  who  has  not  felt  the  power 
of  even  human  melody  to  move  the  heart  ?  Who  has  not 
seen  or  read  of  an  entire  audience  moved  like  the  heart  of 
one  man,  while  listening  to  some  soul-subduing  strain — now 
melting  to  tears — now  ready  to  shout  with  ecstasy — now 
lifted  to  heaven — now  prostrate  in  the  dust — as  the  character 
of  the  strain  was  changed  ?  The  voice  of  God  is  the  music 
of  heaven,  the  primary  and  parent  sound  of  the  universe ; 
and  shall  the  words  of  a  man  that  hath  a  pleasant  voice,  and 


56  THE  HIGH  AND  LOFTY  ONE 

that  playetli  well  on  an  instrument,  exert  a  power  and  yield 
a  pleasure  greater  than  that  of  His  gracious  voice  ?  The 
ear  of  the  himible  has  been  opened  to  catch  its  softest 
tones;  the  heart  of  the  contrite  has  been  subdued  by  its 
melting  power.  All  other  harmony  but  reminds  him  of  this. 
Its  slightest  tone  of  wrath  would  dissolve  him  with  dread — 
its  still  small  voice  of  love  thrills  him  with  delight.  To  be 
able  to  hear  and  to  appreciate  the  music  of  His  gracious 
voice,  is  to  antedate  the  happiness  of  heaven.  Nay,  the 
heart  of  the  Christian  is  itself  become  an  instrument  of 
temj^le-music  in  the  service  of  God. 

What  is  the  created  universe  but  one  mighty  chorus  for 
His  praise?  Everything  that  hath  breath  is  exliorted  and 
expected  to  praise  the  Lord.  And  the  effect  of  evangelical 
humility  is,  that  it  prepares  the  heart  which  had  hitherto  sul- 
lenly refused  to  join,  and  had  uttered  only  sounds  of  discord, 
to  take  its  station,  and  add  its  voice  to  the  general  song.  His 
first  sigh  of  penitence  blends  with  the  harps  of  heaven.  His 
first  prayer  for  mercy  is  the  tuning  of  the  heart  for  an  endless 
song.  His  first  burst  of  gratitude  is  only  a  preluding  note 
for  eternity.  He  would  place  his  heart  as  a  harp  in  the  hand 
of  God,  to  vibrate  and  tremble  at  His  touch  alone.  If  the 
lano'uao-e  to  which  he  listens  is  uttered  in  accents  of  threat- 
ening,  he  would  tremble  with  holy  dread — if  in  accents  of 
love  and  promise,  he  would  thrill  with  hope  and  vibrate  with 
joy.  Whatever  the  character  of  the  sacred  strain  may  be, 
his  first  desire,  his  highest  pleasure  is,  to  feel  a  corresponding 
emotion — to  surrender  his  heart  to  the  heavenly  impulse. 

IV. 

And  then,  fourthly,  the  subject  intimates  that  all  human 
instrumentality,  in  the  service  of  God,  depends  for  its  effi- 
ciency on  the  same  condition — that  of  harmony  with  the 
Divine  character.  This,  indeed,  is  true  of  man's  instru- 
mentahty  in  the  j^hysical  world.  Even  here  we  originate 
nothing.    We  only  avail  ourselves  of  the  laws  wliich  God  has 


DWELLING  WITH  THE  CONTEITE  MAN.  57 

appointed — laws  wliicli  are  already  in  operation.  "VYe  may- 
talk  poetically  and  proudly  of  the  empire  of  science,  and  of 
science  chaining  the  elements  to  its  chariot  wheels  ;  but  just 
as  true  is  it  that  the  elements  chain  man  himself  to  their 
wheels.  He  can  move  only  as  they  move.  If  "  knowledge 
is  power/'  it  is  only  the  knowledge  of  their  laws  and  forces. 
For  this  knowledge  he  has  patiently  to  wait,  perseveringiy 
to  solicit ;  and  having  discovered  it,  he  has  humbly  to  follow 
in  the  direction  which  it  j)rescribes.  To  think  of  prescribing 
to  it  woidd  only  teach  him  his  impotence  and  convict  him 
of  folly. 

But  that  which  is  only  lolly  in  the  material  world,  in  the 
spiritual  world  becomes  crimson  with  guilt.  That  which  in 
our  own  house  might  pass  for  mere  inconsideration,  in  His 
house  becomes  avowed  rebellion.  There,  secondary  causes 
or  means  are  more  apparent;  here,  the  great  First  Cause 
himself  appears.  There,  the  hand  of  human  instrumentality 
is  seen  ;  here.  He  makes  bare  His  own  arm;  and  to  put  that 
aside,  or  to  substitute  anything  in  its  stead,  is  to  ofier  Him 
an  indignity  of  the  deepest  die.  To  overlook  His  arrange- 
ments, indeed,  in  the  natural  world,  and  to  act  as  if  we  could 
do  without  them,  is  to  put  an  affront  en  the  power,  and 
wisdom,  and  goodness  they  display.  But  here,  besides  His 
pov/er,  and  wisdom,  and  goodness,  here  His  grace  reigns — 
here  His  glory  is  enshrined — here,  to  use  the  emphatic 
language  of  inspiration,  here  His  honour  dwelleth — His 
honour,  for  which  he  is  jealous — His  honour,  for  the  exhibi- 
tion of  which  the  universe  exists,  for  the  vindication  of 
which  that  universe  is  ever  armed  and  ready.  An  insignifi- 
cant creature  like  man  values  his  honour  above  his  life — 
deems  it  insulted  by  a  look,  tarnished  by  a  breath,  and 
freely  lavishes  his  blood  to  redeem  it.  But  the  honour  of  the 
High  and  Lofty  One  that  inhabiteth  eternity,  whose  name  is 
Holy,  who  shall  speak  of  that  but  with  the  proioundest  reve- 
rence ?  And  yet  here  it  is  not  only  to  be  spoken  of,  it  is 
to  be  magnified.     Yes,  wonderful  as  the  truth  may  appear. 


58  THE  HIGH  AND  LOFTY  ONE 

it  is  actually  committed  to  our  hands  to  be  briglitened  and 
displayed.  The  highest  angel  has  not  a  greater  charge,  a 
more  sacred  trust  committed  to  him  than  this.  But  do  you 
not  see  how  the  trust  is  to  be  discharged?  As  He  is  the 
great  inhabitant  of  eternity,  the  first  and  only  efficient  Cause, 
He  comes  to  see  if  you  who  assemble  here  are  arrogantly 
asj^iring  to  be  a  cause  also.  Oh  !  let  Him  see  that  you  are 
content  to  rank  as  an  effect,  to  take  the  humble  position  of 
an  instrument  in  His  hands,  and  He  will  count  Himself 
honom-ed.  As  He  is  the  First,  He  comes  to  see  if  you  are 
practically  acknowledging  Him  to  be  the  Last  also,  or  whe- 
ther you  are  seeking  to  be  your  own  end ;  let  Him  see  you 
content  to  occupy  the  relation  of  means  to  His  glory  as  the 
end,  and  He  will  count  Himself  honoured.  Is  He  the  prime 
mover  of  all  spiritual  activity  ?  Let  Him  see  you,  not  acting  as 
if  you  could  originate  an  instrumentality  of  your  own,  but 
linking  on  all  your  machinery  to  His  agency,  evincing  a  deep 
conviction  that  if  anything  you  do  moves,  and  moves  in 
the  right  direction,  it  must  be,  not  by  might,  nor  by  power, 
but  by  His  Spirit  as  the  moving  cause.  Is  He  the  great 
source  of  spiritual  usefulness  and  success?  He  will  come  to 
see  if  He  can  trust  you  with  success,  or  if  you  are  likely  to 
appropriate  the  honour  of  that  success  to  yourselves,  and 
thus  rob  Him  of  the  glory.  Let  Him  see  you,  on  every  fresh 
instance  of  prosj)erity,  taking  it  to  His  footstool — hastening 
to  cast  it  as  a  crown  at  His  feet — casting  yourselves  there, 
and  exclaiming,  "  Not  unto  us,  0  God,  not  unto  us,  but  unto 
Thy  name  be  all  the  glory.''  Is  He  the  High  and  Lofty  One? 
As  such.  He  occupies  a  height  which  gives  Him  a  purchase 
over  the  universe.  He  can  raise  His  intelligent  creatures  to 
as  lofty  a  point  as  their  natures  can  bear;  but,  then,  if  they 
would  be  lifted  up,  they  must  be  found  in  the  place  and  the 
attitude  which  He  prescribes.  Let  Him  see  you  in  that 
place  and  that  moral  attitude — lying  low,  i^rostrate  at  His 
footstool.  He  that  so  humbleth  himself  shall  be  exalted.  Is 
His  very  name  "Holy''?    As  such,  He  hath  provided  and  set 


DWELLING  WITH  THE  CONTRITE  MAN.  59 

forth  a  propitiation  to  take  away  sin ;  for  till  tliat  is  removed 
He  cannot  commune  with  us;  and  He  comes  to  see  if  His 
ministers  are  settmg  forth  that  propitiation  also,  or  if  they 
have  thrown  a  covering  over  it  to  conceal  it.  Yes,  the  first 
object  which  He  here  looks  for  is  the  altar  of  the  cross,  and 
what  is  on  it,  and  whether  it  occupies  a  central  and  conspi- 
cuous place.  He  comes  as  a  hearer — listens  to  the  prayer — 
for  there  is  but  one  plea  which  prevails  with  Him;  listens 
to  the  sermon — for  it  is  not  enough  that  the  discourse  be  not 
opposed  to  His  Word.  The  apostle  reminds  us  that  even 
the  book  of  the  covenant — the  Bible — was  sprinkled  with 
blood,  and  so  must  be  every  discourse  derived  from  it.  Every 
house  of  God  should,  in  this  respect,  be  an  epitome  of  His 
universal  empire — in  that  the  atonement  is  the  centre  around 
which  all  His  purposes  revolve;  and  here  the  cross  should 
form  the  great  central  object,  about  which  everything  else 
shoidd  circulate  and  be  sprinkled  with  its  blood.  As  His 
name  is  Holy,  He  has  provided  the  agency  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
and  He  comes  here  to  impart  and  infuse  it;  let  Him  see 
every  high  thought  and  imagination  cast  down,  and  find  you 
panting,  languishing  for  His  Spirit  as  those  who  feel  they 
must  perish  without  it.  As  the  Holy  One,  He  comes  to  see 
if  the  proud  heart  is  humbled — if  the  sinful  heart  is  contrite 
— if  the  hard  and  insensible  heart  begins  to  quiver  with 
sensibility  and  to  tremble  at  His  word.  Yes,  said  the  Sa- 
viour, "  the  Father  seeketh  such  to  worship  Him."  How  rare 
must  they  be,  that  He  should  have  to  seek  them !  What  a 
value  must  He  set  on  them,  that  He  should  deign  to  seek 
them!  And  He  does  value  them — they  are  the  only  objects 
on  earth  which  He  does  value — His  only  real  worshippers; 
all  besides  are  His  enemies — labouring  to  do  without  Him 
— in  open  or  disguised  hostility  against  Him.  He  comes  to 
His  house,  therefore,  seeking  such  to  serve  Him.  Yes,  He 
comes  here ;  and  shall  He  be  disappointed?  He  is  approaching 
now — He  is  come — He  standeth  at  the  door.  This  is  His 
own  impressive  representation  of  Himself, — "Behold/'  saith 


60  THE  HIGH  AKD  LOFTY  ONE 

He,  "  I  stand  at  the  door,  and  knock/'     Who  can  imagine 
the  scene  of  His  entrance  here  without  deep  emotion? 

Suppose,  in  conchision,  then — suppose  that  something 
like  it  were  now  to  take  phice  ;  that  now,  while  we  are  thus 
assembled,  meditating  on  the  love,  the  condescension,  the 
grace  of  Christ,  the  Divine  Eedeemer  were  to  a2)proach, 
and,  by  some  undoubted  sign,  were  to  signify  His  arrival, 
and  His  desire  to  enter.  How  should  we  prepare  to  receive 
him  ?  What  searchings  of  heart  would  there  be  !  W^hat 
looks  of  anxiety  exchanged  !  Unconverted,  prayerless  man, 
what  could  we  say  to  you,  but  beseech  you  in  few  and  fervid 
accents  to  be  reconciled  to  God  ?  And  what  could  you  do, 
but  fall  down  and  cry  for  mercy  ?  or  if  your  heart  were  too 
hard  even  for  this,  what  could  you  do  but  complain  of  its 
hardness,  and  entreat  that  it  might  be  broken,  bruised,  and 
changed  into  a  heart  of  flesh  ?  And  you  who  seem  to  be 
passing,  and  have  long  seemed  to  be  passing,  from  death 
unto  life,  what  could  you  do  but  lament  your  indecision,  and 
place  your  trembling  heart  before  him,  and  cry,  "Create 
within  me  a  clean  heart,  0  God,  and  renew  within  me  a 
right  spirit ''  ?  And  you  who  have  done  this  already,  what 
could  you  do  but  act  on  the  conviction  that  the  sacrifices  of 
God  are  a  broken  spirit,  and  receive  Him  in  the  attitude  of 
devout  and  humble  prostration  ?  Oh,  what  an  attractive 
spectacle  would  such  an  assembly  present !  How  effectually 
would  it  be  prepared  for  His  admission  !  With  what  Divine 
complacency  would  His  eye  survey  the  blessed  scene  !  And 
as  it  glanced  from  one  to  another,  and  saw  that  each  breast 
was  bared  for  His  inspection,  each  soul  emptied  and  prepared 
for  His  reception,  each  heart  a  bleeding  sacrifice,  each  bosom 
pining  for  His  grace,  enlarging  itself  for  His  recej^tion, 
inviting  Him  to  enter  and  take  entire  possession ;  and  as 
His  countenance  beamed  and  brightened  with  love,  who 
would  not  feel  that  the  windows  of  heaven  were  about  to  be 
opened — that  a  time  of  refreshiDg  had  come,  the  hapj^y 
results  of  which  it  was  impossible  to  foretell !    True,  His  own 


DWELLING  WITH  THE  CONTEITE  MAN.  61 

declaration  in  the  text  would  lead  us  to  expect  great  things, 
for  He  engages  "  to  revive  the  spirit  of  the  humble,  and  to 
revive  the  heart  of  the  contrite  ones  " — to  issue  the  procla- 
mation, "  Peace,  peace  to  him  that  is  afar  off,  and  to  him 
that  is  near  ;  and  I  will  heal  him,  saith  the  Lord/'  But  He 
exceeds  His  promises.  Every  broken  heart  would  be  bound 
uj),  every  wounded  spirit  made  whole,  every  prostrate  soul 
would  be  raised — the  whole  would  be  cheered  and  revived 
by  a  heavenly  current  of  vital  influence  from  the  Fountain  of 
life  itself 

Brethren,  the  Majesty  of  heaven  has  entered,  and  is  here. 
Why  should  not  this  assembly  present  to  His  eye  the  aspect 
we  have  described — welcome  His  arrival,  and  receive  His 
blessing  ?  Motives  are  not  wanting.  Think  hoiu  He  ivould 
count  Himself  honoured.  And  is  that  nothing  ?  "  Here," 
He  would  say — ''  here  will  I  dwell,  for  I  have  desired  it ;  in 
the  world  at  large  I  meet  only  with  foes— but  here  are  my 
friends;  there  my  every  claim  is  disputed — here  they  are 
enthroned  ;  there  everything  is  pervaded  by  a  spirit  of  hostile 
self-sufficiency — here  every  idol  is  abolished,  every  rival  cast 
out,  every  weapon  of  hostility  laid  aside,  and  the  Cross  is 
triumphant.  This  is  the  place  of  my  rest ;  here  there  is  no 
symptom  of  resistance,  or  even  of  indifference— here  every 
look  is  adoration,  every  attitude  submission,  every  heart  a 
vessel  empty  to  receive  my  grace.  Here  will  I  rest ;  here 
can  I  be  as  merciful  and  gracious  as  I  please — here  solace 
myself  with  blessing,  and  receive  nothing  but  adoration  and 
praise  in  return." 

Think  of  the  example  of  Christ  in  this  respect— the  entire 
harmony  of  His  character  with  the  character  of  God  consti- 
tutes the  very  heart  of  His  example.  He  had  a  will  of  His 
own,  as  distinct  from  the  will  of  the  Father  as  His  person 
was  distinct ;  but  though  distinct,  it  was  not  different,  or  at 
variance  with  it.  The  highest  ef!brt  of  His  own  will  was  to 
do  that  supreme  will.  His  human  nature  was  consecrated 
as  a  temple  for  the  enthronement  of  that  will.      His  cross 


62  THE  HIGH  AND  LOFTY  ONE 

owes  all  its  j^ower  to  its  entire  harmony  with  that  will.  On 
the  same  account  it  is  that  God  also  hath  highly  exalted 
Him — for  He  now  reigns  in  the  same  spirit  in  which  He 
suffered — His  throne  is  just  as  much  in  a  line  with  the  will 
of  God,  and  in  harmony  with  it,  as  His  cross  was.  And 
this  spirit  of  subordination,  I  say,  constitutes  the  very  heart 
of  the  example  which  He  hath  left  us.  We  must  place  our- 
selves in  harmony  with  His  cross,  be  content  to  be  as  humble 
as  the  consciousness  of  our  guilt  can  make  us,  as  contrite  as 
the  sight  of  the  cross  can  render  us. 

Thmk,  too,  of  the  haj^piness  of  such  a  state  of  mind. 
"  There  is  no  peace  to  the  wicked,  saith  my  God.''  Out  of 
harmony  with  God,  everything  is  at  discord  with  them — is 
against  them.  The  troubled  sea,  ever  restless  and  labouring 
without  an  object,  and  turbid  with  its  own  agitation,  is  the 
appropriate  figure  by  which  the  prophet,  in  the  context, 
describes  the  restlessness  of  the  wicked.  There  is  but  one 
spot  in  the  universe  where  the  creature  can  find  rest — at  tlio 
feet  of  God.  Brought  back  to  that  position,  everything  is  at 
peace  with  him,  for  he  himself  is  at  peace  with  God.  There 
he  first  finds  rest — enjoys  the  exquisite  satisfaction  of  con- 
fessing himself  nothing,  that  God  may  be  all — of  going  out 
of  himself,  and  losing  himself  in  God — of  finding  his  heaven 
in  the  smile  of  God  ! 

And  what  would  this  be  but  a  foretaste  of  millennial  bliss 
— an  ejoitome  of  heaven  itself  1  For  when  the  design  of  the 
whole  Gospel  constitution  shall  be  answered,  what  will  the 
result  be  but  that  no  flesh  shall  be  found  to  glory  in  His 
presence — that  everything  sliall  be  seen  in  harmony  with 
His  character,  and  redounding  to  the  glory  of  His  grace  ! 
The  only  change  will  be,  that  having  dwelt  with  the  humble 
and  contrite  on  earth.  He  will  then  translate  them  to  dwell 
with  Him  in  heaven ;  that  as  they  once  accorded  to  Him  his 
proper  glory,  then  they  will  be  admitted  to  behold  His  glory, 
and  to  enjoy  it. 

By  our  regard,  then,  for  the  glory  of  God,  for  the  example 


DWELLING  WITH  THE  CONTEITE  MAN.  63 

of  Christ,  for  our  present  peace  and  our  future  blessedness, 
let  us,  as  if  He  were  now  visibly  present,  bow  down  our 
hearts  before  Him.  "  Oh,  come  let  us  worship  and  fall  down, 
let  us  kneel  before  the  Lord  our  Maker  !  "  Let  us  surrender, 
let  us  place  our  hearts  before  Him,  let  us  entreat  Him  to 
dwell  with  vs;  and  whatever  we  possess  which  can  be  made 
to  subserve  His  glory,  let  us  entreat  Him  to  sprinkle  it  witli 
cleansing,  consecrating  blood,  and  to  make  it  entirely  His. 


64i  THE  CONDESCENDIKG  GOD. 


SEKMON  IIL 

THE  CONDESCENDING  GOD. 

2  CilRON.  vi.  18 — "  But  will  God  in  very  deed  dwell  with  men  on  the 
earth?  Behold,  heaven  and  the  heaven  of  heavens  cannot  contam  thee  ; 
how  much  less  this  house  which  I  have  built !" 

There  are  views  of  God  wliicli  make  the  mind  swoon  and 
sink.  Such  are  conceiDtions  of  tliat  power  whose  mere  voli- 
tions are  acts,  and  of  tliat  knowledge  to  which  there  is  neither 
past  nor  future,  in  our  sense  of  the  terms,  and  of  that  dura- 
tion which  knows  nothing  of  succession,  measurement,  or 
date.  These  are  subjects  of  which  the  strongest  mind  can 
only  get  a  momentary  glimpse.  To  see  them  is  to  stagger 
and  fall.  It  is  to  look  over  the  edge  of  a  precipice  where 
the  mind  sees  no  footing,  nothing  but  a  bottomless  abyss, 
and  can  only  cry  out,  with  the  apostle,  ".0  the  depth ! " 
There  are  scriptural  events,  too,  which  captivate  the  mind  as 
often  as  they  are  thought  of — the  birth  of  light,  the  drowning 
of  the  world,  the  giving  of  the  Law,  And  there  have  been 
suhUme  situations  in  which  man  stood  for  God,  or  was  in- 
vested with  a  portion  of  His  majesty ;  as  when  Moses  held 
back  the  arm  of  God  from  destroying  Israel,  and  when  he 
was  seen  coming  down  from  the  mount  with  God's  law- 
tables  in  his  hands,  and  God's  radiance  resting  on  his  face. 

At  the  opening  of  the  Jewish  temple,  in  the  utterance  of 
the  text,  these  three  elements  of  interest,  the  sentiment,  the 
event,  and  the  situation,  were  all  combined.  A  sensuous 
unreflectiiii?  mind  might  have  been  most   taken  w"tli  the 


THE  CONDESCENDING  GOD.  65 

mere  accessories  of  that  august  scene;  for  there  was  a  nation 
present  to  witness  the  solemnity,  a  temjDle  of  which  the  plan 
had  come  from  heaven,  the  pomp  and  procession  of  the 
priests  as  they  slowly  marched  with  the  sacred  ark  through 
the  courts  and  up  the  steps  to  "  the  holiest  of  all,"  the  roll 
and  swell  of  the  music  as  the  ark  advanced,  the  sudden  pause 
which  told  the  waiting  nation  that  the  ark  had  reached  its 
resting-place,  the  slow  descent  of  the  Shekinah,  a  cloud  of 
dusky  splendour  which  filled  the  house,  and  the  instant 
prostration  of  the  priests  before  that  awful  symbol  of  the 
Divine  presence.  Doubtless  all  this  was  impressive,  and  was 
meant  to  impress.  But  it  was  when  the  king,  trembling 
with  the  conscious  grandeur  of  his  position,  ascended  the 
brazen  platform,  and  spread  forth  his  hands  in  prayer,  that 
the  scene  became  most  impressive  ;  it  was  when  his  mind 
caught  for  a  moment  a  view  of  God's  immensity  and  con- 
descension, and  staggered  under  the  weight  of  the  sentiment, 
that  the  scene  became  most  spiritual ;  and  when,  in  that 
grand  intercessory  act,  he  was  seen  connecting  earth  with 
heaven,  and  the  cloud  came  doviTi  and  met  his  ascending 
prayer,  it  was  then  that  he  rose  to  the  highest  point  of  true 
sublimity,  and  prefigured  the  ofiice  of  Him  who  "  ever  liveth 
to  make  intercession  for  us.''  God  help  us,  though  we  look 
for  no  visible  cloud  of  glory — God  help  us  so  to  enter  into  the 
sentiment  of  the  text  as  to  desire  and  be  prepared  for  a  mani- 
festation of  the  Divine  presence  appropriate  to  this  service. 

I. 

And,  first,  let  me  call  your  attention  to  the  fact  of  the 
Divine  greatness  ;  because  it  is  only  in  the  view  of  that  that 
we  can  be  prepared  to  appreciate  the  Divine  condescension. 
"  Behold,  heaven  and  the  heaven  of  heavens  cannot  contain 
thee  I"  1.  What  a  view  have  we  here  of  the  immensity  of 
God  !  We  ourselves  are  among  the  stars,  careering  through 
space,  myriads  of  miles  distant  now  from  where  we  were  at 
the  beginning  of  the  service,  but  though  perpetually  changing 


66  THE  COXDESCENDING  GOD. 

our  place  in  the  universe,  ever  surrounded  by  His  presence, 
and  enclosed  by  His  essence.  And  could  we  speed  our  way 
to  scenes  beyond  all  that  eye  has  explored,  or  even  thought 
has  reached,  what  should  surprise  us  there  to  behold  creations 
in  process — new  worlds  taking  their  appointed  place — sudden 
manifestations  of  the  present  God  !  But  even  the  limits  of 
the  created  universe  are  no  limits  to  Him.  There,  where  no 
wing  has  yet  sped,  no  creative  fiat  yet  taken  effect,  where  all 
is  silence,  solitude,  and  awful  gloom,  God  is  already  present. 
And  could  we  imagine  ourselves  to  be  even  there,  what 
should  surprise  us  to  behold  some  token  of  the  Shekinah — 
some  vision  of  the  present  God  ?  "  Whither  shall  I  go  from 
thy  Spirit,  or  whither  shall  I  flee  from  thy  presence  ? "  The 
heaven  of  heavens  cannot  contain  Him,  but  He  himself  con- 
tains and  is  the  place  of  all  being.  Infinite  space  is  but  the 
dark  background  on  which  He  is  ever  writing  out  His  un- 
finished and  unutterable  name  in  characters  of  living  light. 
Immensity  is  but  His  temple,  and  at  any  moment  He  could 
fill  and  flood  the  whole  with  glory. 

2.  Equally  awful  is  God's  relation  to  duration,  or  His 
eternity.  Mentally,  I  can  construct  a  bridge  of  stars  to  take 
me  back — I  can  imagine  that  each  of  the  countless  stars  was 
formed  in  succession,  and  that  myriads  of  ages  elapsed 
between  the  formation  of  each ;  but  if  my  mind  could  span 
the  sum  of  all  those  myriads,  could  dart  back  a  thought  to 
the  moment  when  the  first  star  beamed  on  the  regions  of 
space,  I  should  feel  that  I  had  only  reached  the  starting-point 
for  the  preceding  eternity — I  should  feel  that  that  star  of 
which  I  had  caught  a  glimpse  could  only  be  regarded  as  the 
first  lamp  that  was  lighted  up  to  guide  the  way  back  to  His 
dread  abode.  But  I  can  transport  myself  still  farther  back. 
Passhig  the  limits  of  the  created,  I  can  think  myself  back 
into  the  presence  of  the  Unseen  and  Eternal,  feel  inyself  there 
alone.  And  oh!  with  what  additional  dreadfulness  is  the 
majesty  of  this  darkness  invested  when  I  remember  that  it  is 
the  majesty  of  solitude.     He  has  inhabited  this  eternity  alone. 


THE  CONDESCENDING  GOD.  67 

Never  has  tliis  stillness  been  broken.  No  ray  of  created  liglit 
lias  ever  beamed  across  this  darkness.  This  boundless  space 
has  never  owned  a  world.  No  seraph  bows  before  His  throne. 
Whatever  is,  is  God.  Yet,  after  all,  I  quit  the  awful  scene 
with  the  humbling  conviction  that,  far,  far  back  as  I  have 
gone,  I  have  made  no  approach  whatever  to  the  understanding 
of  His  eternity. 

3.  Here  is  also  a  recognition  of  God's  infinite  supremacy ; 
for  "the  heaven  of  heavens"  is  the  region  of  angelic  blessed- 
ness, and  the  Uncontainable  fills  and  overflows  even  that. 
Could  v/e  scale  that  height — could  v/e  ascend  and  obtain  a 
view  of  those  thrones  towerino;  above  thrones,  and,  havino: 
reached  an  unknoAvn  height,  could  we  then  see  others  loftier 
still,  stretching  avv^ay  beyond  our  fuitlicst  sight,  what  should 
we  see,  after  all,  but  a  fev/  of  the  lowest  of  the  steps  which 
lead  up  to  His  throne  ?  He  speaks,  and  the  most  exalted  of 
the  principalities  look  up  to  Him,  and  feel  that  there  is  but 
One  High  and  Lofty;  that,  compared  vrith  Him,  all  created 
height  is  His  footstool,  all  other  dignity  seated  in  the  dust. 
He  looks  on  them,  and  they  feel  that  "  He  humbleth  himself 
to  behold  the  things  that  are  in  heaven/'  Lofty  as  their 
natures  and  countless  as  their  myriads  may  be,  there  is  a 
sense  in  which  He  must  ever  continue  to  dAvell  as  perfectly 
alone  through  the  eternity  to  come,  as  He  did  in  the  sublime 
and  appalling  solitude  of  the  eternity  j^ast.  He  still  inhabiteth 
eternity.  It  is  the  only  habitation  which  suits  His  infinite 
greatness.  He  can  never  come  forth  from  it,  so  as  to  bring 
Himself  within  created  limits.  On  account  of  His  incom- 
parable greatness.  He  will  never  be  able  to  bring  Himself 
within  the  comprehension  of  His  loftiest  creatures.  Retired 
within  the  depths  of  His  own  immensity,  they  will  never  be 
able  to  approach  and  behold  Him  dii-ectly.  For  all  they 
know  of  Him,  they  will  ever  feel  that  they  are  indebted  to  a 
medium  of  His  oavu  devising,  and  that,  without  that  glorious 
medium,  the  whole  created  universe,  including  themselves, 
would  only  have  constituted  a  living  altar,  with  this  inscrijo- 


G8  THE  CONDESCEIS^DING  GOD. 

tion,  "  To  the  unknown  god."  And  after  they  shall  have 
continued  to  advance  through  interminable  ages  from  throne 
to  throne,  and  from  one  height  of  glory  to  a  higher  still,  the 
loftiest  summit  will  only  give  them  a  more  enlarged  and 
commanding  prospect  of  His  boundless  perfection. 

11. 

And  will  this  Uncontainable  Being  actually  manifest  Him- 
self to  man — limit  and  localize  His  manifestation — bring 
Himself  into  relations  of  time  and  space — "dwell  with  man 
on  the  earth?''  Here  is,  secondly,  the  fact  of  the  Divine 
condescension.  The  question,  "AYill  He  do  so?"  is  the  lan- 
guage, not  of  doubt,  but  of  astonishment,  and  may  suggest 
what  a  world  of  speculation  there  would  have  been  on  the 
subject,  had  it  been  left  to  mere  conjecture.  But  all  such 
conjecture  is  now  extinguished  by  the  fact. 

And  here  be  it  remarked  there  was  but  one  religion  in 
the  ancient  world  that  knew  anything  of  a  condescending 
God — but  one — -the  Jewish.  The  so-called  gods  of  Olympus 
could  be  mean,  intriguing,  self-debasing;  but  they  had  it  not 
in  their  power  to  condescend.  Morally,  they  had  no  height 
from  which  they  coidd  stoop.  But  the  history  of  the  Divine 
conduct,  as  recorded  in  the  Bible,  had  been,  from  the  first, 
a  history  of  condescension — of  acts  by  which  He  had  been 
training  the  human  mind  to  look  higher  and  yet  higher  for 
His  throne,  in  order  that  man  might  be  able  to  feel  His 
condescension  in  stooping  from  that  height  to  this  depth. 
And  so  well  had  the  eye  of  the  Psalmist  been  trained  to  this 
heavenward  gaze,  that,  looking  up  through  all  the  ascending 
ranks  of  idol-gods  and  the  loftier  hierarchies  of  heaven,  he 
saw  the  throne  of  God  immeasurably  beyond,  and  sublimely 
sang,  "  Who  is  like  unto  the  Lord  our  God,  who  dwelleth  on 
high;  who  humbleth  himself  to  behold  the  things  that  are  in 
heaven  and  in  the  earth?" 

Look  back  to  God's  first  act  of  condescension.  Sin  might 
have   produced  eternal  silence;   the  Almighty  might  have 


THE  CONDESCENDING  GOD.  69 

withdrawn  and  enclosed  Himself  for  ever  within  the  depths  of 
His  everlasting  dwelling-j^lace.  Yet  it  was  to  man  the  sinner 
that  He  took  the  first  step  in  His  career  of  condescension  by 
speaking  to  him.  He  broke  the  fearful  silence  which  sin 
had  produced,  and  which  might  have  lasted  for  ever;  and 
every  accent  He  uttered  was  an  accent  of  love.  He  went  on 
addressing  us,  adding  promise  after  promise,  and  opening, 
every  time  He  spoke,  fresh  views  of  His  excellence,  and 
furnishing  additional  proofs  of  His  condescension. 

Time  rolled  on;  and  though  the  depravity  and  guilt  of 
man  went  on  increasing,  there  comes  before  us  in  the  text 
another  stage  in  the  Divine  regard.  He  appoints  a  ];)lace  for 
the  symbol  of  His  presence  to  dv\^ell  in,  and  where  man  might 
be  always  welcome  to  approach  and  commune  with  Him. 
This  was  a  vast  advance  in  the  condescension  of  God.  It 
seemed  to  say  that  His  love  for  man  knew  no  limits;  it 
seemed  to  place  earth  in  the  very  neighbourhood  of  heaven. 
But  amazing  as  was  this  stoop  of  mercy,  it  was  literally 
true.  There,  through  a  long  succession  of  ages.  He  con- 
tinued to  meet  with  His  peoj^le,  and  to  commune  with  them 
from  off  the  mercy-seat.  There  Penitence  often  smote  upon 
its  breast  till  its  tears  were  wij)ed  away.  There  conscious 
Guilt  lost  its  tormenting  sting  and  first  found  j)eace.  Fear 
lifted  up  its  eye  and  smiled.  Faith  looked  up  in  the  face  of 
God  as  it  stood  with  its  hand  on  the  head  of  the  victim. 
There  prophets,  and  kings,  and  the  righteous  men  of  many 
nations  bowed  down  in  prayer  and  found  that  which  they 
sought — acceptance  with  God. 

And  has  not  this,  we  might  have  said,  exhausted  the  proofs 
of  the  Divine  condescension?  All  this,  astonishing  as  it 
was,  was  only  preliminary.  What  if  He  should  take  our 
nature  and  make  a  temple  of  that !  This,  indeed,  was  an  act 
beyond  human  conception.  What!  will  God  in  very  deed 
dwell  with  man — as  man — ujoon  the  earth?  "  Great,  indeed, 
is  the  mystery  of  godliness.  God  was  manifest  in  the  flesh  I" 
Yes,  by  a  mysterious  act,  He  took  our  nature  into  union 


«kH^ 


sniHr. 


osr^ires.     Tteis  &e  mmosi 


-"'zny 

~:7-  _ 7 -Brays."  T«i  _.  ,  .  .  ".  ;___:  c>i 
£1 — -^z  HZAirrofGod.  ^:-  -e  seen,  and 
:L  c*f  His  :  3^ -^  teait 
-  TPii  - -        — "  TT^ 


Tt  u 


:f  God.   Bmk  iMOfw  ii 


THE  CONDESCENDING  GOD.  71 

beforehand  —  will  Gocl  in  very  deed  do  this?  Por  the 
creation  of  the  imiverse,  vast  as  it  is,  might  be  infinitely  en- 
larged and  eiidlessly  repeated,  and  still  it  would  be  less  hy 
infinity  than  the  j^ower  which  jDroduced  it.  This  itself, 
therefore,  is  condescension  infinite — the  condescension  of  His 
power — in  the  sublime  language  of  Scripture,  "the  hiding 
of  his  power ;''  not  so  much  its  display  as  its  concealment. 
And  then  that,  having  made  creatures.  He  should  vouchsafe 
to  be  called  supreme  in  relation  to  such  creatures — to  beings 
the  highest  of  whom  is  by  necessity  of  nature  infinitely  below 
Him — to  stoop  to  such  grandeur  is  itself  condescension. 
And  then  that  He  should  submit  to  be  worshipped — wor- 
shipped by  beings  who  will  never  be  able  fully  to  compre- 
hend Him,  never  be  able  to  think  of  more  than  one  part  of 
His  character  at  a  time,  or  of  one  illustration  of  one  part,  so 
that  at  the  very  moment  when  they  are  most  lost  in  admira- 
tion by  thinking  of  that  one,  all  the  other  myriad  illustra- 
tions of  His  character  will  be  unthought  of ;  and  after  they 
shall  have  been  enlarging  their  conceptions  of  His  glory  for 
m3rriads  of  years,  that  they  should  still  have  to  remember 
that  what  they  then  know  of  Him  is  as  nothing  compared 
with  what  remains  to  be  kno^vn  of  Him  ! 

But  all  this,  a  man  might  say — much  as  it  enlarges  my 
views  of  the  Divine  condescension — all  this  I  can  believe.  It 
relates  only  to  His  natural  greatness.  Low  and  limited  as 
His  creatures  may  be,  they  are  not  as  yet  supposed  to  have 
revolted,  sinned.  But  what  if,  after  condescending  to  make 
a  creature,  that  creature  should  labour  to  unmake  himself,  or 
to  make  himself  something  essentially  diff'ering  from  what  he 
was  ?  What  if,  after  condescending  to  allow  Himself  to  be 
worshipped,  that  creature  should  refuse  to  worship  Him — 
should  worship  other  objects  even  in  His  very  presence — 
worship  himself  rather — should  labour  to  forget  Hnr,  and, 
failing  in  that,  should  fill  with  enmity  against  Him — what 
could  be  expected  then  ?  what  could  condescension  itself  do 
in  such  a  case  ? 


72  THE  CONDESCENDING  GOD. 

What  miglit  have  taken  i^lace  we  know ;  and  it  is  that 
which  makes  what  He  has  done  so  amazing.  Here  the  real 
wonder  begins.  That  he  should  have  stooped  to  ask  for  a 
hearing  in  a  world  filled  with  the  noisy  praises  of  itself  and 
its  idols ;  that  amidst  that  din,  He,  the  Uncontainable  One, 
should  have  deigned  to  republish  the  forgotten  fact  of  His 
own  existence ;  that  He  whose  heaven  is  one  vast  temple, 
sacred  throughout  to  His  worship),  should  command  the 
erection  of  a  house  upon  earth,  where  he  knew  that  idolatry 
would  come  up  to  His  very  doors,  and  even  obtrude  into  His 
presence;  and  that  then,  when  the  crisis  required,  when 
justice  requu-ed  the  sinner  himself  or  a  substitute,  that  that 
substitute  should  have  been  found  in  the  person  of  "  God 
manifest  in  the  flesh" — that  the  Invisible  himself  should  have 
assumed  a  material  form — that  the  Supreme  should  in  any 
sense  have  become  subordinate,  voluntarily  placing  Himself 
at  the  bar  of  justice  in  our  stead,  inviting  the  stroke  which 
should  have  fallen  upon  us,  bowing  His  head,  and  becoming 
obedient  unto  death ;  this  is  a  scale  of  voluntary  condescen- 
sion in  which  we  behold  Him  stooping  lower  and  lower  still, 
till  He  has  reached  a  point  where  even  inspiration  stands  lost 
in  wonder,  and  can  find  relief  only  in  adoring  exclamations — 
exclamations  which  are  among  the  most  welcome  parts  of 
the  Word  of  God,  because  they  relieve  the  fulness  of  the  bur- 
dened heart — "  Herein  is  love  !"  "  Thanks  be  unto  God  for 
His  unspeakable  gift  I" 

IV. 

But,  fourthly,  this  wonderfulness  of  the  Divine  condescen- 
sion is  no  valid  objection  to  its  reality  and  truth.  This  is 
the  very  gist  of  the  text,  that,  amazing  as  the  conception  is, 
it  is  yet  a  fact.  1.  Let  us  not  be  told  by  a  2~>retendcd  philo- 
sophy that  such  a  Divine  interposition  is  out  of  all  propor- 
tion to  man's  importance  in  the  universe.  This  is  to  assume 
that  all  other  worlds  are  inhabited.  But  why  so?  If  there 
is  an  infinitude  of  space  unoccupied  by  any  world,  may  not 


THE  CONDESCENDING  GOD.  73 

tlie  coimtlcss  worlds  be  unoccupied  by  any  inlialjitants  ?  But 
let  us  grant  them  to  be  inhabited ;  the  objection  unwar- 
rantably assumes  that  the  Divine  manifestation  here  must 
have  prevented  displays  of  the  Divine  presence  elsewhere. 
Whereas,  for  aught  we  know  to  the  contrary,  at  the  very 
moment  when  the  cloud  of  glory  was  descending  on  Mount 
Zion — at  the  very  period  of  the  incarnation — difterent  displays, 
but  disi^lays.  equally  suited  to  their  different  spheres,  may 
have  been  taking  place  in  distant  parts  of  the  universe.  The 
objection  rashly  assumes,  fmther,  that  the  incarnation  of  the 
Son  of  God  can  have  no  relation  to  any  other  part  of  the 
universe  ;  for  if  it  have,  the  objection  fails.  His  relation  to 
oiu"  world,  indeed,  will  ahvays  be  specific  and  unique.  But 
we  can  conceive  of  no  world  to  which  His  incarnation  and 
death  for  the  redemption  of  our  fallen  race  can  be  made 
loiown,  without  having  their  views  of  God  enlarged,  and  their 
motives  to  holiness  increased.  As  an  affair  of  moral  govern- 
ment, it  is  fraught  with  interest  for  all  the  subjects  of  God's 
univei^al  empire.  As  an  illustration  of  the  Divine  charac- 
ter, it  contains  a  grand  promise  and  prediction  of  unknown 
good  for  all  the  futurity  of  duration.  The  planetary  insig- 
nificance of  the  earth,  the  very  circumstance  which  man 
makes  a  reason  for  disbelieving  it,  may  be  an  element  invest- 
ing it,  in  the  eyes  of  other  worlds,  with  transcendent  interest. 
They  may  behold  in  it  only  a  further  illustration  of  the  prin- 
ciple on  which  God  uniformly  acts,  of  "  choosing  the  things 
which  are  not  to  bring  to  nought  things  that  are.''  They  may 
see  in  it  a  designed  intimation  that  there  is  no  world,  how- 
ever insignificant — no  islet  in  space,  however  remote — which 
shall  not  be  filled  with  His  glory.  Once  they  might  have 
been  ready  to  ask,  "  Can  any  good  thing  come  out  of  man's 
Nazareth,  the  earth  ?"  And  the  Divine  reply  may  have 
vibrated  through  far-off  realms  of  creation,  "  And  thou, 
earth,  though  thou  be  least  among  the  thousands  of  the  sky, 
the  Bethlehem  of  space,  yet  out  of  thee  shall  He  come  forth 
who  shall  be  ruler  over  all,  whose  goings  forth  have  been 


74  THE  CONDESCENDING  GOD. 

from  of  old,  from  everlastiiig."  The  Cross  shall  have  the 
universe  for  its  settin.oj.  From  it  rays  of  glory  shall  stream 
forth  to  the  highest  heaven  and  to  the  furthest  space.  This 
loftiest  display  of  love  shall  be  the  central  object  for  the  eyes 
of  all — "  the  Lamb  in  the  midst  of  the  throne/' 

2.  Neither  let  a  mock  humility  pretend  that  such  con- 
descension is  too  great  for  man's  belief  Under  the  plea  of 
his  own  littleness,  man  presumes  to  prescribe  it  to  Infinite 
Greatness.  Feigning  unworthiness  to  lie  at  the  Divine  foot- 
stool, he  yet  ascends  the  throne,  and  usurps  the  prerogative 
of  Supremacy.  He  confesses  to  be  not  worthy  of  a  Divine 
thought,  but  he  assumes  to  be  capable  of  deciding  what  the 
thoughts  of  the  Infinite  should  be.  His  objection  is,  that  the 
means  of  mercy  are  too  vast  for  man  to  believe.  The  reply 
is — God's  own  reply —  that  they  are  not  too  vast  for  God  to 
employ.  ''  For  as  the  heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth,  so 
are  my  ways  higher  than  your  ways,  and  my  thoughts  than 
your  thoughts.^  The  right  point  of  view,  then,  is  not  from 
the  dust  in  which  man  is  lying,  but  from  the  throne  on  which 
God  is  sitting.     The  reason  of  the  Vv^hole  is  in  God. 

Do  you  not  see  then,  that,  wanting  in  wonderfulness,  the 
Divine  manifestation  would  have  been  wanting  in  analogy 
with  creation  and  providence — wanting  in  the  very  means  of 
authentication  as  a  Divine  act.  It  only  stands  in  a  line  with 
other  wonders.  But  the  end  to  be  obtained  by  it  is  incom- 
parably greater.  Creation  and  providence  are  but  introduc- 
tory and  preparatory  to  it.  He  who  brought  forth  the 
patriarch  from  his  tent  on  the  j^lains  of  Mamre,  and  said, 
"  Look  now  towards  heaven,  and  tell  the  stars  if  thou  be  able 
to  number  them,''  and  added,  "  So  shall  thy  seed  be,"  may 
be  regarded  as  saying  to  us,  "  Survey  the  magnitude  of  the 
material  universe,  and  let  the  impression  of  my  power,  which 
the  spectacle  is  calculated  to  produce,  prepare  you  to  expect 
a  corresponding  display  of  my  love."  And  is  not  this  im- 
mensity of  love  what  man  needs  ?  Tell  me  not  of  the  vast- 
ness  of  the  universe.     Man  can  be  satisfied  with  nothing  less 


THE  CONDESCENDING  GOD.  75 

than  the  God  of  the  universe.  Give  him  time,  and  he  will 
si^end  this  said  universe  ;  give  him  time,  and  he  will  exliaust 
it  world  by  world,  and  will  ''cry  out  for  the  living  God;''  and 
the  Divine  manifestation  in  Christ  is  God's  method  of  giving 
Himself  to  man,  by  first  entering  into  his  condition  and  giving 
Himself /o?^  man. 

3.  Nor  let  the  mere  formalist  limit  the  disjDlays  of  Divine 
condescension  to  the  jmst.  He  is  horrified  at  the  impiety 
^7hich  doubts  whether  God  has  been  manifest  at  all,  but  is 
quite  content  that  He  should  manifest  himself  no  lono-er. 
The  ordinances  of  religion  are  with  him  memorials  of  past, 
rather  than  means  of  present  grace — tombs  rather  than 
f-emples.  True,  God  has  been  in  the  past,  and  will  be  in  the 
future,  as  we  do  not  look  for  Him  in  the  present.  Looking 
back,  Shekinah  and  vision  are  there,  miracle,  prophecy,  and 
inspiration,  an  incarnate  Saviour,  and  a  descending  Spirit. 
We  expect  not  now  a  repetition  of  such  scenes.  Looking 
forwards,  we  regard  the  future  as  stored  with  supernatural 
events.  There  lie  the  mystic  scenes  portended  by  the  last 
vials  of  Apocalyptic  vision.  And  there,  in  the  dark  back- 
groimd,  are  seen  to  loom  the  awful  grandeurs  of  the  second 
commg.  And  are  not  many  of  us  living  on  our  faith  in  that 
past  and  that  future,  rather  than  on  our  faith  in  a  present 
God  ?  Like  the  servants  in  the  parable,  whose  lord  had  gone 
away  into  a  far  country,  have  we  not  often  the  feeling  that 
our  Lord  is,  in  some  sense,  absent  from  us?  and  are  we  not 
too  ready  practically  to  adjust  and  resign  ourselves  to  the 
idea?  The  complaint  is,  not  that  we  make  too  much  of  any 
one  part  of  Divine  truth,  not  that  we  make  too  much  of  its 
history  of  the  past,  or  of  its  predictions  of  the  future,  but 
that  we  too  much  slight  its  promises  made  to  the  present. 
God  was  in  the  history,  He  ivill  he  in  the  proj^hecy,  but  He 
is  in  the  promise — "  A  God  near  at  hand,  and  not  afar  off." 
"  Wherever  tvv^o  or  three  are  gathered  together  in  my  name, 
there  am  I  in  the  midst  of  them."  The  history  and  the 
prophecy  are  only  for  limited  times,  the  promise  is  for  all 


"76  THE  CONDESCENDING  GOD. 

time,  large  as  the  heart  of  God,  and  the  fullest  utterance  of 
it.  The  history  tells  me  only  what  God  has  done,  and  the 
prophecy  what  He  ivill  do;  but  the  promise  tells  me  what 
He  might  do — do,  if  the  restraints  which  onr  want  of  prayer 
and  faith  impose  were  all  cast  off — do,  if  He  might  but "  make 
bare  His  arm'' — do,  if  we  would  but  accept  the  challenge  of 
His  grace.     "  Prove  me  now,''  saitli  the  Lord. 

And  is  not  every  truly  Christian  Church  a  proof  that  the 
manifestation  of  God  is  still  in  process,  and  His  condescen- 
sion unabated  ?  Wonderful  as  that  condescension  is,  they 
can  dispense  with  dl\  formal  j)YOoi  of  it.  They  can  no  more 
doubt  their  own  experience,  than  Solomon  coidd  doubt  that 
he  saw  the  descending  Shekinah.  And  as  often  as  they 
enjoy  "  times  of  refreshing  from  the  presence  of  the  Lord," 
tliey  are  seized  afresh  with  holy  amazement  that  He  should 
unveil  His  presence  to  them,  should  even  call  them  into  His 
high  and  holy  service.  And  yet  He  does  this.  And  He  does 
it  in  a  manner  as  if  He  were  really  dependent  on  om^  services. 
For  He  not  only  calls  us.  He  urges  and  entreats,  and  even 
offers  to  reward  us,  thouQ-h  we  can  never  be  otherwise  than 
unprofitable  servants.  If  we  neglect  His  first  invitations,  He 
repeats  them  ;  if  we  faint  in  His  service.  He  supports  and 
encourages  us  ;  if  v/e  decline  from  His  service,  He  follows 
and  brings  us  back  to  it  again.  He  stoops  to  do  that  which 
we  should  count  it  a  deoradation  to  do  to  a  fellow-man.  He 
reminds  us  that  angels  are  bur  fellow-servants,  calls  us  co- 
workers together  with  Himself,  even  engages  to  applaud  us 
at  last  in  the  face  of  the  universe  with  a  "  Well  done,  good 
and  faithful  servants."  Can  we  doubt,  then,  that  God  docs 
dwell  with  man  upon  the  earth  ?  We  believe  even  that,  as 
the  result  of  this  amazing  condescension,  man — penitent,  re^ 
newed,  sanctified  man — ^^vill  go  to  dwell  with  God  in  heaven. 

V. 

What  then,  fifthly,  are  tlie  means  of  securing  the  Divine 
presence,  and  the  eniotions  suitable  to  it  ?     Tell  me,  if  you 


THE  CONDESCENDING  GOD.  77 

can,  a  more  important  inquiry  than  this.  Were  our  men  of 
science  to  be  assured  that  the  atmosphere  here,  in  this  place, 
contained  some  subtle  element  nowhere  else  to  be  found,  an 
element  unique,  mysterious,  capable  of  the  most  extensive 
application,  and  certain  of  immortalizing  whoever  might 
succeed  in  discovering  it,  what  untiring  efforts  would  be 
made  to  elicit  it !  No  number  of  failures  would  induce  them 
to  desist.  No  apparatus  would  be  deemed  too  costly  to  insure 
success.  To  develop,  to  analyze,  and  to  apply  it,  would  be 
the  cheerful  occupation  of  their  life.  Or,  were  there  some 
one  spot  on  this  wide  earth  where  the  Divine  Presence  was 
seen — the  earth's  holiest  of  all — where  whoever  entered 
heard  the  voice  of  God,  saw  coruscations  of  His  glory, 
slept  only  to  have  celestial  visions,  and  awoke  only  to  feel 
that  all  around  was  instinct  with  the  Divine  Presence — who 
would  not  make  a  pilgrimage  thither,  however  remote,  and 
what  a  profound  satisfaction  would  be  felt,  though  life  should 
be  half  spent  in  reaching  it ! 

Brethren,  that  pilgrimage  would  end  only  in  disappoint- 
ment if  the  sacred  precincts  were  entered  with  an  unprejmred 
heart ;  and  with  a  prepared  heart  the  pilgrimage  is  unneces- 
sary. The  Presence  we  seek  is  "not  hidden  from  us,  neither 
is  it  far  off.  It  is  not  in  heaven,  that  we  should  say,  Wlio 
will  go  up  for  us  to  heaven,  and  bring  it  to  us  ?  Neither  is 
it  beyond  the  sea,  that  we  should  say.  Who  will  go  over  the 
sea  for  us,  and  bring  it  unto  us  ?  It  is  very  nigh  unto  us.'" 
It  is  close  to  us.  It  is  here  !  Without  the  heart  to  desire, 
and  the  eye  to  perceive  it,  it  might,  indeed,  as  well  be  far  off 
— at  the  very  outskirts  of  the  universe.  There  are,  you  know, 
chemical  experiments,  in  which,  if  a  certain  condition  be 
wanting,  the  element  sought  for  cannot  be  elicited.  It  is 
present,  waiting,  ready  to  leap  into  activity  the  moment  the 
condition  is  present.  But  as  long  as  that  is  wanting,  the 
element  is  imprisoned,  separated  by  an  imj^assable  barrier, 
and  might  almost  be  said  to  be  non-existent.  Similarly,  the 
preoccupied  mind  might  sleep  at  the  very  gate  of  heaven — 


78  THE  CONDESCENDING  GOD. 

no  celestial  dreams  would  visit  it.  The  worldly  mind  might 
find  itself  in  the  house  of  God,  "  in  the  holiest  of  all ; ''  but 
the  cloud  of  glory  would  sweep  by  it  unnoticed.  A  mind 
keen  after  earthly  objects,  and  engrossed  by  the  interests  of 
time,  might  live  here  three  score  years  and  ten,  with  "the 
powers  of  the  world  to  come"  all  the  time  surrounding  it, 
soliciting  it,  pressing  in  upon  it ;  and  yet  never  once  recog- 
nize a  single  indication  of  the  Divine  Presence.  And  he  who 
finds  nothino^  of  heaven  on  earth  would  find  nothino;  but 
earth  even  in  heaven.  "The  pure  in  heart  shall  see  Grod;'' 
purity  is  the  condition  even  of  the  beatific  vision.  The  pure 
in  heart  behold  Him  here  ;  the  impure  could  not  see  Him 
even  there.  Taney  not,  then,  that  change  of  place  would 
remedy  the  evil.  All  observatories  are  alike  to  the  blind. 
Complain  not  of  the  conditions  of  your  being  as  unfavour- 
able to  the  perception  and  sense  of  the  Divine  Presence. 
The  Psalmist  thought  not  so  ;  he  felt  himself  beset  by  it  be- 
hind and  before,  haunted  by  the  omniscient  eye,  and,  if  not 
oppressed,  yet  consciously  surrounded  by  the  living  God. 

And  the  ordinances  of  religion  are  designed  to  j^roduce 
this  state  of  mind.  As  the  Lord,  the  Spirit,  He  is  present 
in  our  meetings  for  prayer — present  to  impart  and  diffuse  a 
Divine  life.  Let  Him  see  every  high  thought  and  imagina- 
tion cast  doAvn,  and  find  us  panting,  languishing  for  His  aid, 
as  those  who  feel  they"  must  perish  without  it,  and  He  will 
manifest  Himself  imto  us  as  He  does  not  unto  the  world, 
filling  us  v/ith  His  own  life.  As  the  great  Source  of  all 
spiritual  usefulness,  He  is  j^resent  in  all  our  religious  organi- 
zations and  societies — present  to  see  if  He  can  trust  us  with 
success,  or  if  we  are  ready  to  appropriate  the  honour  of 
success  to  ourselves,  and  tJius  rob  Him  of  the  glory.  Let 
Him  see  us,  on  every  fresh  instance  of  prosperity,  taking  it 
to  His  footstool,  hastening  to  cast  it  as  a  crown  at  His  feet, 
casting  ourselves  there,  and  exclaiming,  "Not  unto  us,  0 
God,  not  unto  us,  but  unto  thy  name  be  all  the  glory  " — • 
let  Him  see  this,  and  Pie  will  not  merely  manifest  His  power 


THE  CONDESCENDING  GOD.  79 

to  US,  He  will  make  us  the  manifestations  of  His  power  to 
the  world.  He  is  present  as  often  as  his  Word  is  read,  and 
His  Gospel  is  pressed  home  on  the  hearer — present  to  mark 
if  the  proud  heart  is  humbled — if  the  hard  and  insensible 
heart  begins  to  quiver  with  sensibility.  Let  his  Gospel  be 
thus  responded  to,  and  He  will  make  it  the  power  of  God 
unto  salvation.  Let  Him  be  thus  welcomed;  and,  though  no 
cloud  of  glory  might  descend,  the  grace  which  it  symbolized 
would  be  here.  No  cherubim  might  be  heard  crying  to  each 
other  ;  but,  "  I  say  unto  you,  there  would  be  joy  among  the 
angels  in  the  presence  of  God.''  No  vision  from  heaven 
might  brighten  on  our  eye ;  but  tlie  reality  would  be  here, 
without  the  imagery — the  manifestation  of  God,  without  the 
Shekinah — the  Spirit,  without  the  rushing  mighty  wind — 
Pentecost  in  its  converting  and  transforming  results — truth 
in  the  calmness  of  its  power — love  in  its  purifying  flame — 
God  himself  in  the  soul. 

Brethren,  this  is  what  we  v/ant,  and  this  is  all  we  want. 
And  why  should  we  not  have  it  ?  The  Majesty  of  heaven  has 
entered,  and  is  here.  Why  should  not  this  assembly  present 
to  His  eye  the  aspect  we  have  described,  welcome  His  presence, 
and  receive  His  blessing?  "Oh,  come  let  us  worship  and  fall 
down,  let  us  kneel  before  the  Lord  our  Maker.'' 

And  now,  0  God,  this  house  is  Thine.  Manifest  Thy  pre- 
sence here.  Fill  this  house  with  Thy  glory.  Never  may  Thy 
servants  assemble  here  without  expecting  Thy  j^resence  ;  never 
separate  without  receiving  Thy  blessing.  Often  surprise  them 
with  the  richness  of  the  blessing.  Let  the  Church  here  be 
united,  holy,  prayerful,  enlarged,  active,  filled  with  all  the 
fruits  of  the  Spirit ;  and  may  it  adorn  the  doctrine  of  God  our 
Saviour  in  all  things.  Let  the  ministry  of  Thy  servant  whom 
Thou  hast  placed  here  be  eminently  useful.  May  he  be 
valiant  for  the  truth,  wise  to  win  souls,  suited  to  the  wants 
of  the  day,  and  greatly  successful  in  enlarging  the  kingdom 
of  Christ.     0  Lord,  Vv^e  beseech  Thee,  send  now  j^rosperity. 


80  GOD'a  HOUSE  THE  HOUSE  OF 


SEEMON  IV. 

god's  house  the  house  of  PEAYER  for  all  PEOPLE. 
ISAIAII  Ivi.  7—"  Mine  house  shall  be  called  a  house  of  prayer  for  all  people." 

In  tlie  ordinary  course  of  preacliing,  it  is  perhaps  desirable  to 
limit  attention  to  particular  truths,  and  their  personal  prac- 
tical application.     Occasions  sometimes  arise,  however,  which 
seem  to  invite  the  mind  to  a  loftier  range  and  a  more  com- 
prehensive view  of  truth ;  occasions  when,  almost  unbidden, 
the  past  yields  up  its  treasures — and  ages,  with  the  men  who 
have  made  them  memorable — dispensations,  with  the  mira- 
culous facts  and  the  sublime  disclosures  which  distinguished 
them — the  futurity  of  time,  v/ith  its  distant  horizon  clothed 
in  flames — and  eternity,  with  all  the  plans  of  God  fulfilled, 
pass  in  succession  before  our  eyes.    The  dedication  of  a  house 
to  the  worship  and  service  of  God,  or  the  anniversary  re- 
opening of  such  a  j)lace,  may  be  regarded  as  one  of  those 
occasions ;  for  it  is  an  event  which  springs  out  of  all  the  past, 
and  which  stands  related  to  all  the  future.     The  subject  of 
the  text  is  of  this  description,  calling  up  recollections  of 
ancient  times  and  early  revelations,  and  j^ointing  us  onwards 
to  a  day  when,   as  the  grand  result  of  all  that  God  has 
planned,  and  Christ  has  suffered,  and  the  Spirit  has  effected, 
the  world   shall  be  seen  prostrate  before  God   in   prayer. 
This  we  regard,   if  not  as  the  principal,  as  an  important 
doctrine  of  the  text ;  and  this,  therefore,  we  propose,  first,  to 
illustrate;  and,  secondly,  to  apply.     May  the  Lord  of  the 


PEAYER  FOE  ALL  PEOPLE.  81 

house  be  graciously  i^resent  by  His  Sj^irit  to  aid  our  endea- 
vours and  to  bless  His  Word ! 

I 

In  order  to  the  realization  of  the  glorious  scene  glanced 
at  in  the  text,  in  v/hich  the  world  shall  finally  be  seen  pro- 
strate before  God  in  ^^rayer,  the  first  and  earliest  step  necessary 
was  the  revelation  of  the  Divine  existence;  "for  he  that 
Cometh  to  God  must  believe  that  he  is;"  and  "how  shall 
they  call  upon  him  of  whom  they  have  not  heard?"  This 
fact  takes  us  back  in  thought  to  the  time  when  the  know- 
ledge of  God  was  lost  from  the  earth ;  when  the  Lord,  looking 
down  from  heaven  to  see  if  there  were  any  that  did  under- 
stand and  seek  God,  beheld  the  appalling  spectacle  of  an 
entire  race  in  apostasy  from  Him ;  and  when,  breaking  the 
fearful  silence  which  sin  had  produced,  He  called  to  His 
wandering  creatures,  and  proclaimed,  I  AM.  That  was  an 
era  in  the  moral  history  of  man;  for  it  was,  in  effect,  giving 
to  a  world  of  atheists  a  God.  There  the  great  Object  of 
Prayer  stood  revealed  before  them ;  had  they  known  Him, 
the  world  v^^ould  have  flocked  at  once  in  adoration  to  His 
feet. 

II. 

But,  secondly.  Does  He  take  an  interest  in  the  affairs 
of  the  icorld  1  for,  if  not,  prayer  to  Him  is  useless.  In 
ansvfer  to  this  inquiry  Sinai  rises  to  view — Sinai,  burning 
mth  fire,  covered  with  blackness,  and  darkness,  and  tempest, 
and  echoing  with  the  sound  of  a  trumpet  and  the  voice  of 
words.  God  is  there — legislating  for  sinful  man.  Can  you 
question. His  deep,  deep  interest  in  human  affairs?  Listen 
to  His  lav/  as  He  proclaims  it,  and  mark  how  much  of  it 
relates  directly  to  your  welfare.  Mark  how  it  denounces  a 
curse  against  all  who  shall  neglect  the  duties  they  owe  to 
you !  How  tender  it  is  of  your  life,  denouncing  the  man  who 
shall  even  be  angry  with  you  v/ithout  a  cause !   How  jealously 

r 


82  god's  house  the  house  of 

it  guards  your  property,  your  reputation,  everything  dear  to 
you !  How  it  throws  its  ample  shield  over  you  and  all  you 
have — constitutes  itself  the  watchful  guardian  of  the  whole — 
kindles  into  a  wall  of  fire  around  it — thunders  forth,  "  Cursed 
is  every  one  that  attempts  to  injure  him,''  and  requires  all 
the  people  to  say,  amen — requires  the  universe  to  give  a 
solemn  pledge  that  it  will  be  tender  of  your  welfare !  The 
essence  of  the  whole  is  love;  and  that  essence  it  seeks  to 
instil  into  human  hearts — binding  them  all  together  into  one 
great  community  of  love.  Was  it  possible  that  man,  after 
that,  could  question  the  kind  interest  of  God  in  human 
affairs?  Apart  from  the  Gospel,  nothing  in  the  universe 
displays  the  Divine  benevolence  so  much  as  the  giving  of 
the  law.  Had  it  been  published  from  Sinai  to  a  holy  and 
an  obedient  race,  it  would  have  been  received  and  enshrined 
with  acclamations  of  delight.  But  it  was  published  for  a 
race  in  rebellious  confederacy  against  Him — a  fact  which 
marks  His  benevolence  more  strikingly  still — published  as  a 
proof  of  the  Divine  presence  among  them  and  of  His  imme- 
diate government  over  them — and  published  as  a  standing 
protest  against  human  sinfulness,  with  a  view  of  awakening 
in  the  heart  a  sense  of  guilt  and  a  loud  cry  for  mercy.  Here, 
then,  was  God  furnishing  the  world  with  another  great  occa- 
sion for  prayer.  Man  now  not  only  knew  of  His  existence, 
but  saw  that  He  took  a  deep  interest  in  human  welfare. 

HI. 

But,  thirdly,  Is  tlie  great  God  accessible?  That  He 
takes  a  benevolent  interest  in  human  affairs  is  evident.  If, 
however,  the  terrors  of  Sinai  are  not  laid  aside — if  that  is  a 
specimen  of  His  usual  state — who  can  venture  to  approach 
Him?  "The  Lord  said,"  saith  Solomon,  "that  he  would 
dwell  in  the  thick  darkness."  Will  He  emerge  from  that 
cloud — dissipate  that  gloom — and  allow  man  to  approach 
Him?  The  temple  on  Sion  is  an  answer  to  the  inquiry. 
"  Let  the  people  build  me  a  sanctuary,"  saith  God,  "  that  I 


PEAYEE  FOE  ALL  PEOPLE.  83 

may  dwell  among  them."  This  was  another  stage,  a  vast 
advance  in  the  Divine  condescension.  To  shew  His  own 
sense  of  its  importance,  He  siipj^lied  the  model,  and  selected 
the  spot,  and  snperintended  the  erection  of  the  bnilding. 
"VVTien  completed,  the  Majesty  of  heaven  came  down  and 
visibly  took  possession.  The  very  idea  that  He  should  do 
this  overwhelmed  the  mind  of  Solomon  with  amazement. 
"  Will  God,"  said  he,  "  in  very  deed  dwell  with  man  npon  the 
earth?  Behold,  heaven  and  the  heaven  of  heavens  cannot 
contain  thee  ;  how  much  less  this  house  which  I  have  built  1 " 
*'Will  the  Divine  Omnipresence  take  up  His  dwelling  here? 
Is  not  the  expectation  too  great  to  be  realized?"  "  No,''  saith 
God ;  "  this  is  my  rest  for  ever ;  here  will  I  dwell,  for  I  have 
desired  it."  What  amazing  condescension  was  this!  He 
might  have  paid  only  a  transient  visit  there;  and  then  we 
may  supj)ose  how  greatly  would  the  seasons  of  His  visits 
have  been  prized!  But  how  astonishing  that  He  should 
speak  of  it  as  His  rest — His  permanent  abode!  Did  not 
the  world  repair  to  Him?  When  it  was  rumoured  abroad 
that  the  Lord  of  heaven  had  a  house  upon  earth,  did  not  the 
guilty  race  come  to  cast  themselves  at  His  feet  and  sue  for 
mercy? — That  was  the  object  of  His  coming. 

IV. 

"  But  will  He,"  it  might  have  been  asked,  in  the  next  place, 
"  will  He  ])ardon  ?  His  house  may  be  filled  with  thunder- 
bolts of  justice,  and  with  ministers  of  destruction,  for  man 
has  deserved  it.  Accessible  He  may  be,  but  is  He  propi- 
tious?" ApjDroach  and  read  the  inscription  over  its  gates, 
"  The  house  of  prayer."  Then  there  is  hope  for  the  penitent, 
pardon  for  the  guilty.  Let  us  enter  and  ascertain.  On 
crossing  the  threshold  and  looking  around,  we  find  that  it 
is  distributed  into  three  parts.  We  find  ourselves  at  first  in 
the  court  of  the  temple ;  here  the  principal  objects  are  a 
great  altar  of  sacrifice,  and  a  laver  in  which  the  sacrifices  are 
washed.     "  What  mean  that  cleansing  water,  and  that  bleed- 


84         god's  house  the  house  of 

ing  lamb  V  They  say,  as  plainly  as  tliey  can,  that  "  without 
the  shedding  of  blood  there  is  no  remission  of  sins,''  and  that 
the  victim  whose  blood  is  shed  must  be  spotless. 

We  advance,  and  find  ourselves  in  the  second  part,  the  holy 
place.  Here  the  principal  objects  are  a  golden  candlestick, 
a  table  of  shew-bread,  and  an  altar  of  incense  ;  and  what 
mean  these  objects  ?  They  denote  that  the  sacrifice  is  ac- 
cepted, that  God  is  propitiated,  that  He  is  waiting  to  illu- 
minate and  anoint  His  worshipj^ers  with  His  Spirit,  to  feast 
their  souls  on  living  bread,  and  to  accept  their  praises  as 
grateful  incense.  "  But  what  means  that  mysterious  veil 
which  conceals  the  third  part  of  the  temple,  the  holiest  of 
all?''  It  denotes  that  sinful  man  can  fuUi/  approach  a  holy 
God  only  through  a  Divine  Mediator,  and  that  that  Mediator 
is  not  yet  come.  But  we  know  what  is  within.  There  stands 
the  ark  of  the  covenant,  and  the  mercy-seat  resting  wpon  it, 
denoting  mercy  resting  on  faithfulness ;  and  there  are  the 
cherubim  overshadowing  the  mercy-seat,  intimating  the 
reverence  with  v/hich  even  mercy  itself  should  be  sought, 
and  the  profound  mystery  wliich  it  involves.  "But  what 
means  that  mass  of  dazzling  hght  above  ?"  It  is  the  symbol 
of  the  Divine  presence — God  is  there.  "And  why  dwells 
He  there  ?"  That  men  may  come  and  fall  down  before  Him, 
and  that  He  may  commune  with  them  from  ofi"  the  mercy- 
seat.  Why  dwells  He  there?  Do  you  not  see  through 
His  gracious  design  ?  ^  He  makes  it  His  rest,  that  men  may 
come  to  Him,  and  make  it  theii  rest.  Numbers  through 
successive  ages  availed  themselves  of  His  grace.  There  Peni- 
tence often  smote  on  its  breast,  till  its  tears  were  wiped  away. 
There  conscious  Guilt  lost  its  tormenting  sting,  and  first 
found  peace.  Pear  lifted  up  its  eye  and  smiled.  Faith  looked 
up  in  the  face  of  God,  and  appealed  to  the  heart  of  God,  as 
it  stood  with  its  hand  on  the  head  of  the  victim.  There 
prophets,  and  kings,  and  the  righteous  men  of  many  nations 
bowed  down  in  prayer,  and  found  that  which  they  sought — 
acceptance  with  God. 


PEAYER  FOE  ALL  PEOPLE.  86 


V. 


But  everything  there — gracious  as  it  was,  calculated  as  it 
was  to  bring  all  people  in  humble  prostration  before  God — 
existed  only  in  type  and  promise.  It  may  be  asked,  there- 
fore, in  the  next  place,  "  Have  those  types  been  accomplished  ? 
That  temple  is  gone — its  sj^lendours  have  vanished — its  most 
sacred  things  have  disappeared — the  Vv^hole  economy  is  abo- 
lished— the  very  nation  scattered  to  the  Vv^inds  of  heaven  ! 
Are  those  promises  fulfilled?''  Oh,  what  stupendous  scenes 
arise,  and  present  themselves  in  reply  !  The  fulness  of  time 
arrives,  and,  behold,  God  sendino;  forth  His  So7i !  All  heaven 
is  wondering  and  rejoicing,  for  in  His  person  Divinity  and 
humanity  have  at  length  met.  Before,  they  had  been  only 
approaching  each  other ;  but  nov/  they  have  met,  coalesced, 
and  become  one.  He  has  taken  our  nature,  and  has  made  a 
temple  of  that.  God  is  manifest  in  the  flesh.  Calvary  ap- 
pears ;  there,  as  our  substitute.  He  is  making  an  infinite  com- 
pensation for  our  demerit — washing  out  the  guilt  of  the  world 
with  His  blood — dying,  that  God  may  never  more  be  angry 
with  man,  that  man  may  never  more  deny  or  grieve  the  love 
of  God.  The  day  of  Pentecost  arrives — behold  in  its  scenes 
a  proof  that  our  Advocate  has  entered  on  His  ofiice  of  inter- 
cession above,  and  that  His  sacrificial  plea  prevails ;  for  lo  ! 
the  Spirit  is  poured  out  from  on  high,  and  thousands  bow  in 
meek  subjection  to  His  power,  constituting  at  once  the  means 
and  the  pledge  that  unto  Him,  as  the  hearer  of  prayer,  shall 
all  flesh  come. 

Is  it  then  still  asked  if  the  ancient  promises  have  been 
fulfilled  ?  Let  the  tears  of  the  sinner,  the  joy  of  the  saint, 
the  success  of  the  Gospel  in  every  subsequent  age,  bear  wit- 
ness. Behold  in  this  house  itself  an  adequate  reply.  Do 
you  look  around  and  ask  for  the  altar  of  sacrifice  ?  "  We 
have  an  altar,''  says  the  apostle.  Though  invisible  to  the 
eye  of  sense,  the  eye  of  fiiith  beholds  it ;  and  on  that  altar 
there  is  a  victim ;   will   you   not   reverently  aj^proach  and 


86         god's  house  the  house  of 

look  upon  Him?  Mark  the  majesty  and  meekness,  the 
dignity  and  compassion  of  His  looks.  It  is  Christ  crucified. 
It  is  the  Lamb  of  God  taking  away  the  sin  of  the  world. 
The  Lord  hath  laid  upon  Him  the  iniquity  of  us  all.  Is  not 
that  sujDcrior  to  the  Jewish  sacrifices  ?  He  is  spotless ;  His 
blood  cleanseth  from  all  sin;  by  His  one  ofi^iering  He  hath 
perfected  for  ever  them  that  are  sanctified.  Will  you  not 
draw  near,  and  nearer  still,  and  lay  your  hand  by  faith  on 
the  head  of  this  atoning  sacrifice  ?  "  God  hath  set  him  forth 
as  a  propitiation  for  sin  through  faith  in  his  blood.''  Do 
you  look  around  here  for  the  ark  of  the  covenant?  The  ark 
we  have  not,  but  the  covenant  we  have.  What  means  this 
sacred  book  ?  "  All  that  the  ark  did  once  contain,  could  no 
such  grace  afford."  "  This  is  the  neiu  covenant,''  saith  Christ, 
"  the  new  covenant  in  my  blood,"  the  covenant  of  life — every 
page  of  it  proclaims,  "  Hear,  and  your  souls  shall  live."  Do 
you  look  around  for  the  mysterious  veil,  and  for  the  high 
priest  that  enters  within  it  ?  We  know  of  no  veil  here  to 
conceal  the  mercy-seat — we  have  access  into  the  holiest  of 
all.  The  only  veil  we  knov/  of  is  that  which  separates  earth 
from  heaven;  and  as  to  our  High  Priest,  He  has  passed 
within  that  veil,  He  is  gone  into  heaven  itself,  now  to  appear 
in  the  presence  of  God  for  us.  Our  Advocate  with  the 
Father  is  Jesus  Christ  the  righteous.  He  ever  liveth  to 
make  intercession  for  us.  Everything  valuable  in  the  Jewish 
economy  here  finds  accomplishment,  stability,  and  perfection. 
And  the  design  of  it  all  is  to  make  His  house  a  house  of 
prayer,  a  place  of  friendly  meeting  between  God  and  man. 
This  was  the  great  object  at  which  He  aimed  when  He  dwelt 
amongst  us.  Hence  the  attractions  with  which  He  invested 
the  throne  of  grace,  adorning  it  with  precious  gifts,  on  which 
He  inscribed,  "Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive" — describing  Him 
that  sits  on  it  as  our  Father,  waiting  to  receive  us  as  His 
children — assuring  us  that  we  go  there  invited  and  expected 
as  His  friends— and  placing  in  our  hands  a  censer  filled  with 


PExiYER  FOR  ALL  PEOPLE.  87 

the  incense  of  His  own  merit,  to  make  our  acceiDtauce  secure. 
And  still  His  heart  is  set  on  effecting  an  interview  between 
God  and  man.  Hence  the  specific  design  for  which  He  has 
instituted  the  ministry  of  the  Gospel  is  to  beseech  men  to  be 
reconciled  to  God,  to  cast  themselves  down  at  His  feet.  And 
hence  the  office  of  intercession  which  He  fills  in  heaven,  never 
quitting  His  station,  never  remitting  its  duties  for  a  moment, 
but  watching  and  encouraging  the  sinner  as  he  takes  the  first 
step  towards  the  mercy-seat,  by  declaring,  "  I  will  pray  the 
Father  for  you;''  for  well  He  knows  that,  when  brought  in 
penitence  to  the  footstool  of  mercy,  our  forgiveness  is  certain, 
and  the  end  of  the  Gospel  is  gained. 

VI. 

But  again,  admitting  that  God  is  thus  accessible  and  gra- 
cious, is  He  thus  accessible  and  gracious  to  all  ?  Ask  if  the 
light  of  day  is  free  for  all  that  see,  ask  if  the  air  of  heaven  is 
free  for  all  that  breathe — but  ask  not  if  the  throne  of  God  be 
open  to  all  that  need  salvation.  "  My  house,''  saith  He,  "  shall 
be  called  a  house  of  prayer  for  all  people;"  and  remember 
He  said  this  under  the  local  economy  of  the  Jews.  Is  the 
Gospel  Church  less  open  and  free  than  the  Jewish  temple  ? 
Its  gates  are  never  to  be  shut,  night  nor  day  !  Its  blessings 
are  to  be  offered  without  money  and  without  price.  Its 
ministers  are  despatched  into  all  lands  with  the  command, 
"  Preach  the  Gospel  to  every  creature  under  heaven.  Proclaim 
that  I  am  now  on  my  throne  giving  audience  to  the  world 
Say  to  them,  all  things  are  mine,  come  and  share  them.  I 
possess  them  for  your  enjoyment  and  use  ;  come,  and  let  me 
confer  them  upon  you.  All  the  riches  and  resources  of  heaven 
are  mine,  and  you  may  be  made  the  happy  recipients ;  come, 
and  I  will  bless  you  with  eternal  life.  Whosoever  will,  let  lihn 
come  ;  I  cast  out  none."  "  My  house  shall  be  called  a  house 
of  prayer  for  all  people."  "  0  thou  that  hearest  prayer,  to 
thee  shall  all  flesh  come  I  " 


88         god's  house  the  house  of 

VII. 

And  is  there  ground  to  conclude  that  this  siibKme  result 
shall  be  realized  ?  "  The  mouth  of  the  Lord  hath  spoken  it/' 
"I  have  sworn  by  myself,  the  word  hath  gone  out  of  my 
mouth  in  righteousness,  and  shall  not  return.  That  unto  me 
every  knee  shall  bow,  and  every  tongue  shall  swear/'  By 
what  particular  changes  in  the  present  kind  of  instrumentality, 
at  what  precise  period,  or  to  what  exact  point  of  perfection 
the  result  may  be  realized,  we  cannot  say,  and  are  not  anxious 
to  know.  Sufficient  is  it  for  us  to  know  that  the  time  shall 
come,  when  the  world  shall  be  seen  prostrate  before  God  in 
prayer.  And  then  will  it  be  clearly  perceived  that  this  has 
been  brought  to  pass  as  the  result  of  all  that  God  has  planned, 
and  Christ  has  suffered,  and  the  Spirit  has  effected.  The 
very  mention  of  His  name,  then,  will  be  sufficient  to  brino-  the 
world  into  a  posture  of  adoration.  They  will  come  before 
Him,  hungry  for  His  blessing,  languishing  for  His  Spirit — 
coveting,  craving  the  gifts  of  His  grace.  Is  His  throne  of 
mercy  open  to  all  ?  Is  His  house  a  house  of  j)rayer  for  all 
people  ?  "  0  thou  that  hearest  prayer,  to  thee  sliall  all  flesh 
come  ! "  They  shall  not  be  satisfied  to  enjoy  Thee  alone ; 
they  shall  go  out,  and  with  a  friendly  violence  compel  others 
to  come  in  and  share  Thy  favours  with  them.  "  It  shall  come 
to  pass,  that  there  shall  come  people,  and  the  inhabitants  of 
many  cities  ;  and  the  inhabitants  of  one  city  shall  go  to 
another,  saying.  Let  us  go  speedily  to  pray  before  the  Lord, 
and  to  seek  the  Lord  of  hosts  :  I  will  go  also.  Yea,  many 
people  and  strong  nations  shall  come  to  seek  the  Lord,  and 
to  pray  before  the  Lord."  Churches  shall  come  to  adore 
Him,  cities  to  consult  Him,  nations  to  surrender  to  Him,  all 
the  kindreds  of  the  earth  to  fall  down  before  Him.  They 
shall  not  be  content  to  praise  Him  alone — they  shall  feel  as 
if  they  wanted  help,  the  help  of  the  world,  to  raise  a  song 
adequate  to  His  praise,  and  a  prayer  equal  to  the  ardour  of 
their  desires.     "  And  it  shall  come  to  pass,  that  from  one  new 


PEAYEE  FOE  ALL  PEOPLE.  89 

moon  to  another,  and  from  one  sabbath  to  another,  shall  all 
flesh  come  to  worship  before  me,  saith  the  Lord/' 

Then  man  will  have  found  his  only  proper  place,  will 
have  retm'ned  to  the  only  spot  in  the  universe  which  becomes 
him — at  the  feet  of  God.  And  having  found  his  proper  place, 
his  ultimate  end,  there  will  he  rest — confessing  himself  nothing, 
that  God  may  be  all — going  out  of  himself  and  losing  himself 
in  God,  finding  his  heaven  in  the  smile  of  God.  Then  God 
will  have  recovered  His  proj^er  glory — every  idol  will  be 
aboHshed,  every  rival  power  cast  out — the  eyes  of  all  will  wait 
upon  Him — all  flesh  will  be  hanging  upon  Him,  staying  them- 
selves upon  Him — He  will  be  seen  by  the  universe  as  the 
centre  of  a  lapsing  creation,  the  support  and  stay  of  a  sinking 
world.  Then  the  design  of  the  whole  GosjdcI  constitution 
will  be  completed — "That  no  flesh  should  glory  in  his  pre- 
sence " — everything  will  have  redounded  to  the  glory  of  His 
grace.  And  when  all  flesh  shall  thus  be  seen  prostrate  before 
God  in  prayer,  what  will  it  be  but  a  prelude  to  the  worship 
of  heaven — what  will  remain  but  that  the  whole  should  be 
transferred  to  the  employment  of  praise  above  !  Infinite 
Love,  ascending  the  throne  and  putting  on  the  crown,  shall 
sit  down  and  enjoy  an  eternal  Sabbath  of  love  !  vfhile  the 
myriads  of  the  redeemed  and  glorified,  casting  their  crowns 
at  His  feet,  shall  ascribe  their  hapj^iness  to  Him,  and  the 
jubilee  of  eternity  shall  begin  ! 

VIIL 

1.  Brethren,  to  this  point  everything  in  the  mediatorial 
government  of  Christ  is  tending  with  the  directness  and  force 
of  a  law.  To  this  end,  therefore,  every  event  in  His  Church, 
every  movement  of  His  people,  should  be  intentionally  subor- 
dinated. Viewed  apart  from  this  ultimate  design,  the  most 
magnificent  projects  of  man  become  puerile  ;  viewed  in  con- 
nexion with  it,  things  in  themselves  of  very  slender  account 
swell  into  infinite  importance.  It  hallows  whatever  it  touches, 
ennobles  and  perpetuates  whatever  it  employs.      Brethren, 


90         god's  house  the  house  of 

such  is  the  fact  in  relation  to  this  and  every  similar  edifice. 
Eegarded  merely  as  a  structure  raised  for  the  honour  of  a 
religious  denomination,  it  is  little  more  than  a  few  j)articles 
of  fabricated  dust ;  but  regarded  as  pointing  to  the  great  end. 
of  which  we  are  sjDeaking,  its  foundations  rest  on  the  deep- 
laid  purposes  of  God — its  topstone  touches  the  throne  of  God 
■ — its  dimensions  on  all  sides  stretch  away  into  infinity — it  is 
built  into  and  forms  a  part  of  the  vast  system  of  means  by 
which  God  is  working,  and  which  fills  the  nniverse.  Not 
more  certauily  is  it  connected,  as  a  material  fabric,  with  the 
universal  laws  of  gravitation,  and,  as  such,  exerting  a  physical 
mfluence  through  all  space,  than  it  stands  connected,  as  a 
moral  means,  with  the  universal  government  of  God.  Yes, 
there  is  a  sense  in  which  even  the  temple  of  Jerusalem  still 
stands.  Though,  in  a  literal  respect,  not  one  stone  of  that 
sacred  pile  remains  upon  another,  in  the  moral  influence  v/hich 
it  exerts  over  the  Church  of  God,  it  still  lifts  up  its  sacred 
head — its  fires  still  burn — its  victims  still  bleed — its  day  of 
atonement  still  returns.  "We  have  seen  them  this  morning, 
we  shall  see  them  in  eternity.  Brethren,  there  is  a  sense  in 
which  all  the  great  events  and  solemn  transactions  related  in 
the  Bible  may  be  regarded  as  having  taken  place  within  these 
walls.  Here  they  will  come,  as  they  often  have  come,  in  the 
ministry  of  the  Gospel,  and  occur  again.  Here  Eden  will 
bloom,  and  man  will  fall.  Here  God  will  speak,  and  Sinai 
will  burn.  Here  prophets  will  repeat  their  sacred  strains, 
and  priests  present  their  offerings.  Here,  "  before  your  eyes, 
Jesus  Christ  will  evidently  be  set  forth  crucified  among  you;" 
and  here  again  w^ill  be  heard,  in  eff'ect,  the  rushing  mighty 
wind  and  the  cries  of  penitence  on  the  day  of  Pentecost.  By 
linking  it  on  to  the  great  machinery  of  Providence,  all  the 
influences  of  the  past  come  and  gather  around  it,  and  settle 
down  ujoon  it,  while,  for  the  future,  all  heaven  is  awake  with 
expectation ;  f()r,  as  a  house  of  God,  a  page  is  opened  for  it 
in  the  book  of  His  remembrance — as  a  house  of  jn-ayer,  it 
takes  its  stand  among  the  means  by  which  God  is  reducing 


PEAYEE  FOE  ALL  PEOPLE.  91 

and  restoring  all  things  to  Himself ;  it  forms  a  part  of  that 
vast  combination  of  means  by  which  all  things  and  all 
men  are  to  be  borne  on  into  the  presence  of  God,  there 
to  fall  prostrate  before  Him,  and  to  acknowledge  Him  all 
in  all. 

2.  The  question  will  be  entertained,  then,  by  every  Christian 
mind — How  may  this  sacred  place  be  made  most  effectually, 
more  effectually  than  ever,  to  subserve  this  great  end  ?  The 
text  suggests  the  ansv/er — By  making  it  literally  a  house  of 
prayer.  Every  power  in  the  universe  is  regarded  by  God  as 
more  or  less  opposed  to  Him,  except  the  power  of  prayer,  and 
the  means  which  prayer  has  sanctified.  Every  human  habi- 
tation in  which  God  is  not  worshipped  is  a  fortress  raised  in 
hostility  to  Him,  and  the  family  which  inhabits  it  is  in  arms 
against  Him.  On  the  other  hand,  wherever  prayer  is  made — 
and  in  the  exact  proportion  in  which  it  is  made — there  He 
beholds  a  spot  reclaimed  from  the  powers  of  darkness,  and 
subjects  swearing  allegiance  to  His  throne.  The  erection  or 
enlargement  of  a  place,  therefore,  professedly  dedicated  to 
prayer — to  public  and  united  prayer — is,  we  may  suppose,  an 
event  which  occasions  joy  among  the  angels  in  the  presence 
of  God.  "Behold/'  they  say,  "another  house  of  prayer — 
another  point  of  friendly  communication  betv/een  earth  and 
heaven — another  erection  whose  hallowed  attraction  shall 
draw  to  itself  the  fertilizing  clouds  of  heavenly  grace  !" 
And  while  we  are  content  with  inquiring,  as  the  building 
rises,  to  what  denomination  of  Christians  it  belongs,  they  are 
only  anxious  to  know  what  denomination  of  prayer  will  be 
offered,  what  kind  of  suppliants  will  assemble  in  it — for  well 
they  know  that  its  real  prosperity  will  depend  upon  that — 
that  its  final  amount  of  utility  for  hastening  on  the  grand 
consummation  will  depend  upon  that.  And  while  we  are 
meeting,  perhaps,  and  consulting  1jy  what  specific  name  it 
shall  be  called,  the  Lord  of  angels  himself  is  saying  to  us 
from  heaven,  "  If  it  is  to  be  my  house,  it  shall  be  called  a 
house  ofpraye7\     The  only  condition  on  which  it  can  receive 


92  god's  house  the  house  of 

my  blessing,  and  subserve  my  ultimate  purposes,  is  by  be- 
coming a  house  of  i^raijer.'' 

Brethren,  the  world  itself  was  intended  to  be  a  house  of 
prayer;  every  spot  on  it  was  meant  to  be  sacred  to  the 
worship  of  God ;  all  its  air  should  have  been  incense,  and  all 
its  sounds  adoration  and  praise.  That  purpose  sin  at- 
tempted to  defeat.  But,  oh  !  a  higher  purpose  still  only 
waited  till  the  attempt  should  be  made.  From  that  moment 
a  plan  of  grace  has  been  unfolding,  which  concentrates 
within  itself  all  the  interest  of  the  world's  history,  all  that 
is  eventful  in  the  universe.  And  when  the  consummation  of 
all  things  shall  arrive,  what  will  this  world  be  thought  of, 
think  you,  but  as  it  has  furnished  a  stage  for  the  unfolding 
of  that  plan ;  and  as  it  was  gradually  reclaimed,  in  conse- 
quence, from  being  a  house  of  sin — again  converted  into 
a  house  of  prayer,  and  thus  restored  to  its  original  design  ? 
Let  man  record  its  history,  indeed,  and  he  would  dwell 
chiefly  on  toj)ics  of  war  and  peace,  of  pestilence  and  famine, 
the  changes  of  thrones  and  the  revolutions  of  empires  ;  but, 
as  written  by  the  finger  of  God,  these  things  shall  be  noticed 
only  as  they  subserved  or  opposed  His  final  purpose,  while 
the  history  of  the  world,  as  far  as  man's  instrumentality 
tended  to  promote  that  purpose,  shall  be  chiefly  a  history  of 
prayer.  Preaching  itself — benevolent  activity  itself,  except 
so  far  as  it  is  associated  with  devotion — shall  be  passed  over, 
to  record  the  triumphs  of  prayer.  Many  a  Christian  who 
once  filled  the  public  eye  with  his  active  deeds  and  burning 
zeal,  shall  be  comparatively  unnoticed — and  the  man  of 
prayer,  the  -vvTcstler  with  God,  shall  be  drawn  out  from  his 
closet  obscurity,  and  proclaimed  in  his  stead ;  and  it  shall 
appear  that  while  the  one  was  only  moving  earth,  the  other 
was  movino^  heaven. 

Are  we  asked  for  a  proof  of  this  ?  Brethren,  a  great  portion 
of  the  world's  history  is  written — written  by  the  finger  of 
God.  The  Bible  is  God's  summary  of  the  history  of  the 
world  do^vn  to  the  close  of  the  first  century  of  the  present 


PEAYER  FOR  ALL  PEOPLE.  93 

era.  What  are  tlie  deeds — wliat  is  the  kind  of  human 
instrumentality  which  He  has  deemed  most  worthy  of  record? 
Oh,  if  I  did  not  believe  you  to  be  sufficiently  acquainted 
with  them  already,  I  would  say,  Paint  them  on  the  walls  of 
this  sacred  place — let  those  spaces  now  left  in  unadorned 
simplicity  be  occu]3ied  with  the  principal  scenes  out  of  God's 
history  of  man's  instrumentality.  And  they  would  soon  be 
peopled  with  suppliants  in  all  the  postures  of  devotion — 
crowded  with  the  various  forms  and  attitudes  of  prayer.  In 
one  ]3lace,  Abraham  would  appear  interceding  for  Sodom — 
and  Omnipotence  waiting  till  he  had  done — the  tempest  of 
descending  fire  suspended  in  the  air — suspended,  and  ready 
to  be  blo^\ii  away  by  the  breath  of  prayer.  In  another, 
Moses  would  appear  holding  back  the  arm  of  God,  while 
Omnipotence  is  saying,  as  if  embarrassed,  "  Let  me  alone — ■ 
let  me  alone,  that  I  may  destroy  them.''  In  one  compart- 
ment should  stand  the  Temple,  with  the  scene  of  the  Dedi- 
cation— a  nation  at  prayer — and  clouds  of  massive  glory 
filling  the  house.  And  in  another,  the  same  Temple,  with 
its  high  priest  occupied  in  the  office  of  twofold  interces- 
sion— prayer  with  the  voice,  and  prayer  by  sacrifice — the 
prayer  of  blood.  Did  Jesus  pray?  Oh!  in  a  sense  more 
than  figurative.  He  saved  the  world  by  prayer.  Portray  a 
mountain  top,  and  Jesus  on  it — j)rostrate,  alone,  wet  with 
the  dews  of  night — praying  to  God  with  strong  crying  and 
tears.  And  next,  a  garden — Gethsemane — and  Jesus  there, 
praying  in  an  agony  which  baptizes  Him  in  his  o^vn  blood. 
And  next,  "the  place  called  Calvary,"  and  Jesus  dying — 
offering  that  great  sacrificial  prayer,  which  still  pleads,  still 
fills  the  ear  of  God,  and  for  the  sake  of  which  alone  all  other 
prayers  are  heard.  Can  the  cloven  tongues  of  fire  be  por- 
trayed ?  Porget  not  to  represent  the  apostles  on  whom  they 
rest,  assembled  in  prayer.  Elsewhere,  let  an  angel  be  seen 
despatched  from  the  Divine  presence,  to  liberate  Peter  from 
prison ;  but  forget  not  to  represent  the  discij^les  in  a  neigh- 
bouring house  in  prayer.      But,   oh,  there  is  a  vision  no 


9-i  god's  house  the  house  of 

human  eye  but  one  lias  seen — a  heavenly  scene  which  sums 
u^)  all — an  angel  standing  at  the  altar,  having  a  golden 
censer ;  and  there  is  given  him  much  incense,  that  he  may 
offer  it,  with  the  j^rayers  of  all  saints,  upon  the  golden  altar 
which  is  before  the  throne.  And  the  smoke  of  the  incense, 
blending  with  the  prayers  of  the  saints,  ascends  up  before 
God,  out  of  the  angel's  hand.  Yes,  here  is  the  summing 
up  of  man's  instrumentality.  Of  all  the  various  ways  in 
which  he  em2:)loys  himself  here — look  into  that  censer,  and 
mark  which  of  them  it  is  that  reaches  heaven — only  that 
which  was  sanctified  by  prayer.  When  the  clamours  of  a 
2:)rayerless  zeal  have  subsided,  and  the  undevout  deeds  Vvdiich 
have  dazzled  and  astounded  men  have  spent  their  force, 
mark  what  is  left  in  the  censer — only  that  which  partook  of 
the  nature  of  prayer.  This  is  all  that  lives  to  reach  the 
skies,  all  that  Heaven  receives  from  earth,  aU.  that  is  ever 
permitted  to  ascend  before  God.  Oh,  brethren,  would  you 
have  this  place  to  be  named  at  last  in  God's  history  of  the 
world  ? — let  it  be  distinguished  now  as  a  house  of  prayer  ; 
for  when  that  history  shall  at  last  be  summed  up,  nothing 
which  had  not  been  in  that  censer  will  be  named,  except  to 
be  condemned ;  and  nothing  now  will  ever  find  a  place  in 
that,  but  that  which  ascends  on  the  breath  of  prayer. 

Here,  then,  you  are  to  come  in  the  spuit  of  prayer.  The 
great  idea  of  God,  as  the  object  of  prayer,  is  to  mingle  with 
all  your  thoughts  of  the  place,  hallowing,  ennobling,  and  lift- 
ing it  into  sacred  importance.  The  very  presence  of  a  church 
or  chapel  is  to  be  viewed  as  a  perpetual  protest  against  all 
prayerlessness  and  irreligion.  By  it  God  is  to  be  regarded 
as  repeating  His  original  announcement,  and  saying  to  all 
the  passers-by,  "  I  AM — come  and  fall  do^vn  and  worship  me." 
And  by  it  you  are  to  be  regarded  as  saying  to  them,  "  0  come, 
let  us  worship  and  fall  down,  let  us  kneel  before  the  Lord  our 
Maker."  Eemembering  that  you  come  to  obtain  an  audience 
of  the  Great  King,  you  will  be  punctual  and  regular  in  your 
attendance.     You  will  see  to  it  that  "  praise  waiteth  for  God 


PEAYER  FOE  ALL  PEOPLE.  95 

in  Zion" — He  will  not  have  to  wait  for  it.    You  will  allow  no 
affairs  but  His  to  be  transacted  here  ;  it  was  the  violation  of 
this  understood  compact  with  God  which  led  our  Lord  to  say 
of  the  temple,   "  It  is  written,  My  house  shall  be  called  a 
house  of  prayer;  but  ye  have  made  it  a  den  of  thieves.''    As 
if  you  had  just  heard  of  His  existence  for  the  first  time,  you 
are  to  come,  labouring  to  reahze  to  your  minds  the  idea  of  His 
glorious  presence,  to  feel  that  He  has  entered,  and  is  here.    As 
if  His  providence  had  only  just  now  taken  the  affans  of  men 
under  its  superintendence,  or  as  if  you  had  only  now  heard 
of  it  for  the  first  time,  you  will  come  full  of  confidence  and 
hope  ;  for  what  if  all  the  princes  and  philosophers  and  philan- 
thropists on  earth  were  daily  to  meet  in  solemn  council  on 
nothing  but  your  affairs,  and  to  devote  all  their  resources  to 
your  use,  what  would  that  be  comj^ared  with  the  glorious 
truth  that  God  has  taken  your  affairs  into  His  hands,  and 
that  here  He  is  always  present  expressly  to  receive  you  ?    As 
if  the  great  facts  of  the  Gospel  history  had  only  just  trans- 
pired, as  if  the  clouds  of  glory  which  conveyed  the  ascending 
Saviour  to  heaven  had  hardly  yet  disappeared,  you  will  come 
full  of  expectation  and  joy,  you  will  anticipate  fresh  dis- 
closures of  His  grace,  royal  favours  from  His  hand.     And 
the  more  you  expect,  the  more  you  honour  Him.     Brethren, 
are  your  feelings  up  to  a  level  with  the  height  of  the  present 
occasion  ?     When  the  ark,  the  mere  symbol  of  the  Divine 
presence,  was  carried  into  the  ancient  temple,  the  whole  na- 
tion of  Israel  was  thrown  into  a  transport  of  delight,  the 
firmament  rang  with  acclamations.     As  if  nothing  could  be 
supposed  to  be  inanimate  and  insensible  on  such  an  occasion, 
the  very  gates  of  the  city  and  doors  of  the  temple  are  sum- 
moned to  open  of  their  own  accord.     Has  less  taken  place 
here  ?    "  Behold,  the  tabernacle  of  God  is  with  men,''  is  with 
you  !     Are  you  sufl&ciently  aware  whose  house  this  is  ?    Had 
an  angel  come  to  dwell  among  you,  would  it  not  have  been 
with  you  a  season  of  excitement  and  expectation  ?     This  is 
more  than  Gabriel's  house.     The  great  Potentate  himself  has 


96         god's  house  the  house  of 

come  down  to  chvell  among  you.  Angels  are  liere  merely  to 
grace  tlie  occasion,  and  to  be  sliarers  of  yonr  joy.  Adore 
His  condescension.  Expect  His  blessing.  Let  your  affections 
go  forth  to  meet  Him,  and  your  hearts  be  enlarged  to  receive 
Him.  Eegard  it  as  none  other  than  the  house  of  God,  and 
He  will  make  it  the  gate  of  heaven. 

4.  Again,  here  everything  is  to  be  done  with  the  view  of 
leading  to  prayer.  As  we  have  been  proceeding  with  our 
remarks,  the  question  may  have  arisen  in  some  minds,  "  What ! 
is  our  piety  to  take  no  other  form  than  that  of  prayer  ?  is  it 
to  shew  itself  in  no  other  way  than  by  prayer?''  Such  a 
question,  however,  could  be  entertained  only  where  there 
existed  a  misapprehension  of  the  nature  of  prayer,  and  of  the 
way  in  which  prayer,  like  an  all-pervading  element,  pene- 
trates and  blends  Vv-itli  all  the  various  methods  in  which 
piety  works.  Confine  yourselves  to  mere  acts  of  devotion  I 
no,  not  even  in  the  house  of  prayer  itself ;  only  see  to  it,  that 
whatever  you  do,  you  do  it  with  an  ultimate  view  to  prayer. 
If  you  preach  the  Gospel,  for  instance,  you  are  to  bear  in 
mind  that  that  is  the  most  successful  preaching  which  brings 
men  prostrate  before  God  for  mercy — that  this  is  the  end  of 
the  Gospel  ministry.  And  the  more  vividly  you  can  set  forth 
Jesus  Christ  crucified  among  them,  the  more  effectually  this 
end  will  be  answered.  Oh,  yes,  let  this  place  have  a  Calvary 
in  the  midst  of  it,  and  on  that  Calvary  let  there  be  a  cross, 
and  on  that  cross  a  bleeding  Saviour — and  on  that  sight, 
that  spectacle  of  love,  let  the  eyes  of  the  people  be  kept 
perpetually  fixed.  As  preachers  of  the  Gospel,  our  great 
distinction  is  that  we  are  ministers  of  the  cross — we  have  to 
wait  on  the  cross,  to  walk  around  the  cross,  to  point  out  to 
the  people  the  wonders  of  the  cross.  Have  we  any  pathos  ? 
it  should  be  kept  for  telling  them  of  the  cross.  Have  we  any 
affection  for  their  souls  ?  it  should  gush  forth  when  we  are 
pointing  them  to  the  cross.  Have  we  any  tears  for  them  ? 
where  shall  we  shed  them  but  when  w^e  have  led  our  people 
to  the  cross  ?  when  we  are  there  saying  to  the  sinner,  "  Be- 


PEAYER  FOR  ALL  PEOPLE.  97 

hold  Him — look  on  Him — He  is  woiinded  for  your  transores- 
sions,  bruised  for  your  iniquities,  the  chastisement  of  your 
peace  is  upon  Him,  that  with  His  stripes  you  might  be  healed. 
Draw  nearer  to  Him — it  is  of  you  that  He  is  thinking ;  that 
blood  is  to  wash  away  your  sins  ;  that  life  which  He  is  pour- 
ing out  is  the  ransom  He  is  giving  for  your  soul.  Dravf 
nearer  still,  look  into  His  heart,  read  the  names  which  are 
written  there — your  name  is  among  them."  And  while  we 
are  thus  entreating  the  sinner,  does  he  relent  ?  Does  he 
look  u2)on  Him  whom  he  has  pierced,  and  mourn  ?  Does  he 
smite  upon  his  breast,  crying,  "  God,  be  merciful  to  me  a 
sinner"? — then  the  end  of  the  ministry  is  answered — "Be- 
hold, he  prayeth." 

But  besides  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel,  all  the  other  ordi- 
nances of  God's  house  are  to  be  here  administered.  And  in 
addition  to  these,  children  are  to  be  collected  and  taught  on 
the  Sabbath,  pecuniary  offerings  are  to  be  cast  into  the 
Christian  treasury,  the  Bible  is  to  be  distributed,  visits  of 
mercy  are  to  be  paid  in  the  neighbourhood  aroimd.  It  is  to 
be  God's  house  for  doing  God's  work.  But  however  various 
the  agencies  and  extensive  the  operations  which  are  here 
organized  and  kept  in  activity,  the  tendency  of  the  whole 
must  be  to  bring  men  to  God  in  prayer.  Where  will  it  avail 
if  it  stop  short  of  this — if  it  does  not  contribute  to  this  ? 
The  tendency  of  all  that  God  does  is  to  lead  to  this ;  and  if 
you  would  act  in  harmony  with  His  designs,  the  direction  of 
all  your  movements  for  others  must  be  towards  the  presence 
of  God,  the  language  of  all  you  do  for  them  must  be,  "  We 
cannot  be  satisfied  till  we  see  them  reconciled  to  God — pros- 
trate before  Him  in  prayer." 

5.  Here,  too,  the  salvation  of  the  world,  and  whatever  may 
be  instrumentally  necessary  to  that  salvation,  should  be  made 
the  subject  of  prayer.  "  My  house,"  saith  God,  "  shall  be  called 
a  house  of  prayer  for  all  people."  But  as  all  will  not,  cannot 
here  pray  for  themselves,  your  obvious  duty  is  to  come  and 
pray  for  them.     Parents  pray  for  your  children,  and  children 

G 


98  god's  house  the  house  of 

pray  for  your  parents.  Let  all  the  various  relations  of  life 
here  come  to  pray  for  each  other.  Pray  for  the  neighbour- 
hood around ;  there  is  a  sense  in  which  it  is  committed  to 
your  care,  in  which  God  is  saying  to  you,  as  to  His  people  of 
old,  "  I  will  make  you,  and  the  places  round  about  my  hill  a 
blessing  ;  there  shall  be  showers  of  blessing.""  Pray  to  be 
made  the  cloud  from  which  the  showers  descend,  the  channel 
through  which  they  flow.  Pray  for  the  prosperity  of  the 
whole  Christian  Church,  and  remember  that  in  doing  that  you 
are  in  effect  praying  for  the  world,  for  the  Great  Intercessor 
above  prays  not  for  a  party.  The  names  of  all  the  tribes  are 
graven  on  His  breastplate.  And  does  He  not  love  that  prayer 
the  most  which  most  nearly  resembles  his  own  ?  Pray,  then, 
for  the  prosperity  of  the  whole  Christian  Church.  Do  you 
ask  what  should  be  the  special  object  of  supplication  ?  Ah  ! 
it  wants  more  spirituality  and  distinctness  from  the  Vv'oikl — it 
wants  a  higher  apj)reciation  of  its  office,  as  the  instrument  of 
Christ  for  saving  the  world — more  of  the  sj)irit  of  liberality  to 
sacrifice  for  Christ — of  union,  of  oneness,  in  accordance  with 
the  prayer  of  Christ — of  zeal  which  shall  burn  for  the  universal 
triumph  of  Christ.  But  one  want  there  is  which  compre- 
hends the  whole — the  impartation  of  the  spirit  of  Christ. 
Could  a  convocation  be  held  of  all  the  churches  upon  earth, 
the  object  of  their  one  united  cry  should  be  for  that  promised 
Spirit.  Let  that  be  secured,  and  in  obtaining  that  we  shall 
obtain  the  sujDply  of  every  other  want — we  should  find  that 
we  had  acquired  the  same  mind  which  was  also  in  Christ,  a 
benevolence  which  would  yearn  over  the  whole  human  race — 
a  brotherly  love  which  would  combine  with  the  whole  body 
of  Christians  for  the  conversion  of  the  world — a  zeal  which 
would  be  ever  devising  fresh  methods  of  usefulness,  practising 
self-denial,  and  laying  itself  out  in  the  service  of  Christ — and 
a  perseverance  which  would  never  rest  till  the  whole  family 
of  man  should  be  seated  together  at  the  banquet  of  salvation. 
And  in  coming  here  to  implore  an  effusion  of  the  Spirit  on 
the  Church,  remember  that  you  are  in  effect  interceding  for 


PEAYER  FOE  ALL  PEOPLE.  09 

the  world  ;  for  it  is  throiigli  the  instrumentality  of  His  Cbiiroh 
that  He  proposes  to  save  the  world.  Christians,  realize  in 
thought  the  dignity  of  your  office  ;  you  go  to  God  as  the 
earthly  representatives  of  mankind — as  intercessors  for  the 
world.  You  pass  to  the  throne  of  grace  through  multitudes, 
myriads,  of  human  beings.  Do  you.  not  hear  them  as  you  go, 
imploring  a  place  in  your  supplications  ?  Do  you  not  see 
all  Africa  assembled  in  your  path,  urging  you  to  go  to  God 
for  them,  to  describe  their  wrongs,  to  ask  for  the  blessings  of 
the  rcign  of  Christ  for  them  ?  And  before  you  have  done 
pleading  for  Africa,  China  comes,  with  its  untold  myriads, 
entreating  you  to  intercede  for  them.  And  while  yet  you  are 
pleading  for  China,  India  comes  with  its  tale  of  lamentation 
and  woe,  and  entreats  you  to  speak  for  it.  And  can  you 
refrain  ?  And  when  you  grow  faint,  they  all  combine  their 
entreaties  that  you  cry  to  God  for  them  louder  still,  that  you 
call  in  hel]),  more  intercessors,  and  more  still,  till  all  the 
Church  be  prostrate  in  prayer.  And  when  you  move  to  quit 
the  throne  of  grace,  they  all  in  effect  entreat  you  not  to  leave 
them  unrepresented  before  God.  "  Oh,  if  there  be  a  God,'' 
they  say,  "  and  if  prayer  can  reach  Him,  do  not  leave  us  thus, 
or  we  perish !  Our  only  hope  is  in  the  God  you  worship,  the 
Saviour  you  proclaim.  Pray  that  the  blessings  of  His  grace 
may  be  extended  to  us."  Brethren,  realize  your  office  thus ; 
let  this  be  a  house  of  prayer  for  all  people,  and  you  will  be 
hastening  the  day  when  the  world  shall  be  given  into  the 
hands  of  the  Church,  and  the  whole  shall  cast  themselves  at 
the  feet  of  Christ. 

6.  Here,  then,  in  this  place,  and  from  this  day,  let  a  period 
of  enlargement  commence  in  your  views  of  the  kingdom  of 
Christ,  and  in  your  endeavours  to  realize  them.  The  opening 
of  the  temple  was  an  era  in  the  history  of  the  Jewish  Church 
— let  this  day  be  marked  as  an  era,  if  not  in  the  history  of 
the  Church  at  large,  at  least  in  the  history  of  those  who 
propose  to  worship  here.  Imagine  that  a  new  page  is  again 
this  day  opened  in  your  history — let  it  prove  a  fairer  page 


100        god's  house  the  house  op 

than  any  in  the  past.  Eeview  that  past — ascertam  in  what 
respects  it  admits  of  improvement,  whether  in  the  regularity 
of  your  attendance  on  the  means  of  grace — in  the  attention, 
seriousness,  and  self-application  with  which  you  hear  the 
Word  of  God — in  the  amount  of  your  pecuniary  contributions 
to  His  cause — in  your  personal  activity  in  His  service — or 
in  the  fervour  and  comprehensiveness  of  your  prayers ;  and 
in  whichever  it  may  be,  ask  God  to  record  this  day,  in 
the  book  of  His  remembrance,  a  holy  resolution  of  instant 
amendment.  Especially  see  whether  you  ought  not  to  take 
a  loftier  stand  than  ever  in  relation  to  the  gTcat  interests  of 
the  kingdom  of  Christ.  Has  He  made  you  23artakers  of  His 
grace?  Then  He  has  taken  you,  and  often  takes  you  still,  to 
a  height  which  commands  a  view  of  eternity,  and  bids  you 
take  a  comprehensive  viev»^  of  existence — to  regard  it  as  a 
whole — to  live  for  eternity.  And  having  taught  you  this,  as 
essential  to  your  own  personal  happiness.  He  next  takes  you 
to  another  mount  of  vision,  which  commands  a  view  of  all 
mankind,  and  He  bids  you  to  pray  for  them  all — to  open 
your  heart  and  embrace  them  all — to  live  for  the  universe. 
Brethren,  let  this  house  be  to  you  that  mount  of  vision.  The 
present  is  a  day  of  more  extended  views  than  the  past — a 
day  of  greater  designs  and  more  generous  endeavours.  Let 
this  be  a  house  and  a  church  for  the  day. 

My  young  friends,  you  whose  eye  is  kindling  at  these 
designs — whose  hearts  beat  high  at  those  endeavours — be 
you  as  men  of  God,  men  of  and  for  the  day.  It  is  your 
honour  to  belong  to  a  denomination  in  the  Church  whose 
name  stands  high  up  in  the  lists  of  Christian  fame  for 
benevolent  activity  and  Divine  success.  On  you  it  is  de- 
volving to  vindicate  and  continue  that  distinction.  See  that 
no  man  take  your  crown.  But,  distinguished  as  your  deno- 
mination has  been  and  still  is,  do  not  be  satisfied  to  equal, 
be  ambitious  to  excel.  Louder  voices  urge  you  on  than  your 
predecessors  have  ever  heard,  and  more  splendid  achieve- 
ments await  your  advance.     Take  enlarged  and  comprehen- 


PEAYER  FOR  ALL  PEOPLE.  101 

sive  views  of  duty — devise  liberal  things — design  for  the 
universe  and  eternity.  The  Lord  of  the  Church  Himself 
is  your  leader — angels  witness  the  scene,  and  the  world  is 
waiting  to  be  blessed  by  your  instrumentality. 

But  when,  Christian  friends,  shall  you  begin?  Let  the 
opening  of  this  place,  signalized  as  it  undoubtedly  is  in 
heaven,  be  signalized  here  by  your  begmning  now.  The 
dedication  of  the  temple  was  distinguished  by  the  prodigious 
number  of  the  sacrifices  offered,  and  by  the  solemnity, 
spirituality,  and  comprehensiveness  of  the  dedication  prayer. 
Shall  not  the  opening  of  this  place  be  similarly  distinguished? 
Some  of  you  I  know  have  already  contributed  of  your  pro- 
perty liberally.  "Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servants.'' 
But,  oh,  let  us  hear,  as  we  do  of  the  churches  of  Macedonia, 
not  only  of  your  liberality,  but  of  the  riches  of  your  libe- 
rality. Give  as  God  gives.  Give  under  the  expanding  and 
exhilarating  recollection  that  you  are  giving  in  a  house  of 
prayer,  where  you  will  come  to  ask  Him  to  give  heaven  and 
eternal  life — that  you  are  giving  towards  a  house  of  prayer 
for  all  people,  for  w^hom  God  hath  given  His  only  begotten 
Son.  Give  under  these  impressions,  and  you  will  so  give, 
that  in  eternity  you  will  bless  God  for  disposing  you  to  act 
so  much  like  Himself. 

Prayers,  too,  have  been  offered — solemn  prayers — compre- 
hensive prayers — prayers  wdiich  the  angel  havmg  the  censer 
hath  presented,  and  w^hich  He  who  sits  on  the  throne  hath 
heard.  But — has  each  one  i3resent  joined?  Let  inquiry 
be  made.  Have  all  i^rayed?  What!  is  there  one  present 
whose  heart  has  not  miited  in  the  general  suj^plication — 
one  who  has  never  yet  begim  to  pray?  who,  in  the  very 
house  of  prayer,  while  every  one  around  him  was  engaged 
in  prayer,  has  yet  kept  aloof  from  the  throne  of  mercy? 
Is  he  not  pointed  out  at  this  moment  by  invisible  beings? 
Are  they  not  gazing  at  him  with  pity  and  wonder?  Ought 
not  all  present  to  pray  for  him?  ]My  friend,  do  you 
know  what  you  do?     Shall  we  pause  while  you  do  pray? 


102     god's  house  the  house  of  peayee. 

Suppose  we  were  now  to  say  to  this  assembly,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  prophet,  "  Come  now,  and  let  us  join  ourselves 
unto  the  Lord  in  a  perpetual  covenant,"  and  let  all  who  are 
ready  to  comply  give  a  sign,  would  you  alone  give  no 
sign?  would  you  be  the  only  one  to  remain  out  of  the 
holy  confederation?  Shall  we  pause,  then,  while  you  now 
pray?  Shall  we  Avait  while  you  now  offer  your  first  entreaty 
for  mercy?  Yes — now,  it  will  gloriously  signalize  the  present 
occasion — noiu,  the  news  will  be  conveyed  to  heaven — now, 
it  would  be  converting  this  house  at  once  to  its  highest  pur- 
pose— it  will  be  hastening  on  the  day  when  all  flesh  shall  be 
seen  prostrate  before  God  in  prayer,  and  preparing  additional 
lustre  for  that  day  when  all  the  crowns  in  the  universe  shall 
be  cast  at  the  Saviour's  feet. 


THE  VOICE  OF  GOD  S  ETEENAL  WISDOM.  103 


SEEMON  V. 

THE  VOICE   OF   GOD'S  ETEENAL  WISDOM. 

Proverbs  viii.  30-36—"  Then  I  was  by  him,  as  one  brought  up  with  him  : 
and  I  was  daily  his  delight,  rejoicing  always  before  him  ;  rejoicing  in 
the  habitable  part  of  his  earth  ;  and  my  delights  were  with  the  sons  of 
men. 

"  Now  therefore  hearken  unto  me,  0  ye  children  :  for  blessed  are  they 
that  keep  my  ways.  Hear  instmctiou,  and  be  wise,  and  refuse  it  not. 
Blessed  is  the  man  that  heareth  me,  watching  daily  at  my  gates, 
waiting  at  the  posts  of  my  doors.  For  whoso  findeth  me  findeth  life, 
and  shall  obtain  favour  of  the  Lord.  But  he  that  sinneth  against  me 
wrongeth  his  own  soul :  all  they  that  hate  me  love  death." 

This  and  the  fcllowing  chapter  contain  a  bold,  and,  in 
parts,  a  sublune  personification  of  Wisdom.  But  who,  or 
what,  is  to  be  understood  by  this  personification  ?  Some 
would  reply  that  it  relates  entirely  to  that  attribute  of  the 
Divine  nature  which  we  understand  by  wisdom.  Others, 
that  it  refers  exclusively  to  the  eternal  and  only-begotten 
Son,  by  whom  all  things  were  made.  And  others,  again, 
that  it  relates  exclusively  to  neither — but  partly  to  that 
wisdom  which  begins  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  j)artly  to  the 
Divme  attribute  of  wisdom,  and  partly  to  the  Son  of  God 
— the  second  person  in  the  Godhead.  Of  these  views, 
probably  the  conclusion  of  the  latter  is  the  nearest  approxi- 
mation to  the  truth  ;  especially  as  certain  expressions  are 
applied  to  Christ  in  the  New  Testament  very  nearly  resem- 
bling some  of  those  which  are  here  predicated  of  wisdom. 
At  all  events,  while,  on  the  one  hand,  none  can  demonstrate 


104^  THE  VOICE  OF  GOD'S  ETEKNAL  WISDOM. 

that  Christ  is  here  directly  intended,  on  the  other,  none  can 
pi^ove  that  he  is  not  contemplated  ;  and,  perhaps,  both  will 
admit  that,  under  certain  conditions,  language  such  as  that 
in  our  text  may  be  justifiably  applied  to  Him.  One  of  these 
conditions  is,  that  the  language  be  not  employed  argumen- 
tatively,  or  in  'proof  of  anything  relating  to  Christ,  but  only 
for  the  purpose  of  illustration  ;  and  another  is,  that  when  so 
employed,  it  be  only  adduced  to  illustrate  such  views  of  the 
Son  of  God  as  are  already  established  by  such  other  jDarts  of 
Scripture  as  are  admitted  by  the  parties  addressed.  In 
compliance  with  these  conditions,  it  might  be  said — Do  we 
regard  it  as  speaking  of  Christ  under  the  appellation  of 
Wisdom  ?  In  the  New  Testament  He  is  called  expressly  the 
Word  and  the  Wisdom  of  God,  as  declaring  His  eternal  pre- 
existence.  He  himself  speaks  of  the  glory  which  He  had 
with  the  Father  before  the  world  was — as  intimating  that 
He  was  even  then  the  object  of  the  23aternal  comjjlacency. 
"Behold,"  saith  the  Father  himself,  " behold  mine  elect,  in 
whom  my  soul  delighteth  " — as  having  taken  part  in  the 
process  of  creation.  "In  the  beginning  was  the  Word, 
and  the  Word  was  with  God,  and  the  Word  was  God.  All 
things  were  made  by  him,  and  without  him  was  not  any- 
thing made  that  was  made.''' 

But  we  are  disposed  to  take  higher  ground  than  this. 
Even  admitting  that  all  the  lofty  things  which  are  here 
predicated  of  wisdom  relate,  not  to  a  person,  but  only  to  an 
attribute,  whose  is  the  attribute  ?  Considering  the  relation 
sustained  by  Christ  in  the  great  economy  of  creation  and 
redemption,  we  entertain  no  doubt  whatever  that,  not  the 
attribute,  but  the  person  in  whom  the  attribute  resides,  is 
the  eternal  Son  of  God — that  the  being  with  whom  wisdom 
is  here  represented  as  having  resided  and  rejoiced  from 
eternity  is  the  second  person  in  the  Godhead.  "For  hy  him 
were  all  things  created,  that  are  in  heaven,  and  that  are  in 
earth,  visible  and  invisible,  whether  they  be  thrones,  or  do- 
minions, or  principalities,  or  powers  :  all  things  were  created 


THE  VOICE  OF  GOD  S  ETEENAL  WISDOM.  105 

by  him  and  for  liim  :  and  he  is  before  all  things,  and  by 
him  all  things  consist/'  And  liere  He  comes  forth  and 
discloses  the  wondrous  truth,  that  from  the  beginning  His 
wisdom  had  been  devising  our  welfare,  and  His  love  rejoicing 
in  the  prosjDcctive  results  of  His  plans ;  and  that  on  this 
account  He  deems  himself  entitled  to  our  supreme  regard. 
"  Now  therefore  hearken  unto  me,  0  ye  children  :  for  blessed 
are  they  that  keep  my  ways.  Blessed  is  the  man  that 
heareth  me,  watching  daily  at  my  gates,  waiting  at  the  posts 
of  my  door.''  May  that  blessing  be  ours  on  the  present 
occasion ! 

The  train  of  thought  suggested  by  the  text  is  the  follow- 
ing : — That,  from  eternity,  the  welfare  of  man  engaged  the 
complacent  regard  of  God  our  Saviour ;  that  the  disclosure 
of  this  fact  warrants  the  expectation  that  all  His  intercom\se 
with  us  would  be  made  to  harmonize  with  that  welfare; 
that  a  place  employed  for — dedicated  to — that  intercourse,  and 
devoted  to  that  welfare,  may  be  supposed  to  be  an  object  of 
His  special  regard  ;  and  that,  if  in  these  respects  He  fulfils 
our  expectations  from  Him,  we  should  fulfil  the  correspond- 
ing expectations  which  He  may  be  suj^posed  to  entertain 
respecting  us. 


We  learn  here,  in  the  first  place,  that,  from  the  beginning, 
the  welfare  of  man  engaged  the  complacent  regard  of  God 
our  Sa\iour. 

1.  He  represents  Himself  here  as  deriving  delight  from 
the  spectacle  even  of  the  matei^ial  creation,  because  it  was 
to  be  subservient  to  man.  When  He  surveyed  it,  He  en- 
joyed the  happiness  of  beholding,  objectively  idealized,  that 
which  he  had  hitherto  contemplated  only  in  idea.  He 
looked  on  material  objects  as  visible  realizations  of  eternal 
types.  On  comparing  them  with  the  originals  in  His  ovm. 
infinite  mind,  He  beheld  the  perfect  resemblance,  and  was 
satisfied. 


106  THE  VOICE  OF  GOD'S  ETERNAL  WISDOM. 

He  beheld  them  in  their  prospective  application,  serving 
as  indexes  or  intimations  of  His  infinite  greatness  to  myriads 
of  minds  which  he  purposed  to  create,  and  so  to  constitute 
that  each  of  all  these  things  should  operate  on  them  sugges- 
tively. He  knew,  therefore,  all  the  lofty  thoughts  which  these 
objects  would  ever  suggest,  and  all  the  exquisite  intense  de- 
light those  thoughts  would  occasion,  and  all  the  holy  admira- 
tion which  the  perception  of  this  relation  between  the  material 
and  the  mental  would  ever  produce. 

He  looked  on  these  objects  as  the  first  in  an  endless 
series  yet  to  come.  Now,  on  taking  the  first  step  towards 
the  realization  of  a  noble  design,  the  mind  is  apt  to  antici- 
pate consequences,  to  spring  forwards  to  meet  them,  and  to 
rejoice  in  them  as  if  they  were  already  present.  In  begin- 
ning to  build  a  house  for  God,  we  already  think  of  it  as  the 
gate  of  heaven.  At  the  opening  of  the  Jewish  temple,  the 
mind  of  Solomon,  as  his  prayer  indicates,  contemplated  the 
sacred  edifice  in  connexion  with  all  the  future  leading  events 
of  the  economy,  and  thus  contributed  to  invest  it  with  a 
solemn  interest  which  it  will  never  lose.  In  His  first  acts  of 
creation,  the  Great  Architect  was  laying  the  foundation  of  an 
all-comprehending  and  eternal  temple  ;  and  His  infinite  mind 
embraced  by  anticipation  all  the  sublime  results — the  wor- 
shippers, the  transactions,  the  temple  filled  with  the  glory  of 
the  Divine  manifestation — all  were  present  to  His  mind,  and 
He  rejoiced  in  the  glorious  prospect. 

2.  There  was  the  happiness  of  prospectively  beholding  the 
activity,  enlargement,  and  progress  of  the  whole  system  of 
creation  and  providence.  He  enjoyed  that.  Great  as  the 
pleasure  of  the  mechanist  is  in  looldng  on  his  ingenious  and 
complicated  machinery  at  rest,  it  is  as  nothing  compared 
with  what  he  feels  when  he  sees  it  in  harmonious  and  useful 
activity.  Great  as  is  the  satisfaction  of  the  statesman  in 
conceiving  a  plan  for  the  aggrandizement  of  his  country,  it  is 
as  nothing  compared  with  what  he  feels  when  he  knows  that 
his  designs  are  in  actual  progress — that  every  agent  is  at  his 


THE  VOICE  OF  GOD'S  ETERNAL  WISDOM.  107 

post — every  means  answering  its  end — and  when  every  hour 
is  bringing  him  intelligence  that  his  plans,  like  a  richly 
freighted  fleet,  are  sailing  with  the  wind  and  tide  of  circum- 
stance strong  in  their  favour  for  the  desired  haven.  Now, 
this  the  Mediator  beheld  in  relation  to  His  vast  designs.  Not 
more  certainly  is  the  earth  perpetually  speeding  on  its  destined 
course  through  space,  and  carrying  with  it  all  the  momentous 
interests  of  humanity,  than  His  plan,  freighted  with  an  eter- 
nal weight  of  glory  for  the  creature,  and  with  the  weightier 
revenue  of  glory  to  God,  is  in  constant  j^rogress.  Never  for 
a  moment  does  it  retrograde — ^never  pause — never  linger. 
Look  on  it  when  He  will,  He  beholds  it  arrived  at  that  staire 
where  a  thousand  ages  ago  He  foresaw  it  would  be ;  and 
look  forwards  to  what  distant  age  He  will.  He  beholds  it,  in 
anticipation,  already  there  arrived.  Hence  He  is  often  repre- 
sented in  Scripture — in  the  text — as  foretasting  the  happi- 
ness arising  from  the  contemplation  of  this  progress.  Out 
of  the  depths  of  eternity  He  looked  onwards  to  the  period 
when  creation  should  commence.  "From  everlasting,  from 
the  beginning,  or  ever  the  earth  was — when  there  were  no 
depths — ^no  fountains  abounding  with  water — when  as  yet 
He  had  not  made  the  earth,  nor  the  fields,  nor  the  highest 
part  of  the  dust  of  the  world" — He  anticipated  the  period 
when  all  these  should  be.  Beyond  this.  He  looked  on  to  the 
remoter  period  when  the  earth  should  be  prepared  for  the 
reception  and  sustenance  of  animal  life.  He  saw  its  forests 
wave,  its  waters  roll,  its  surface  clothed  with  verdure,  and 
the  whole  rej^lenished  with  various  orders  of  sentient  being. 
Beyond  this,  His  eye  fixed  on  the  time  when,  in  order  to  the 
arrival  of  man.  He  should  "  prepare  the  heavens,  and  set  a 
compass  upon  the  face  of  the  deep — ^when  He  should  estab- 
lish the  clouds  above — ^when  He  should  give  to  the  sea  His 
decree  that  the  waters  should  not  pass  His  commandment 
— ^^vhen  He  should  appoint  the  foundations  of  the  earth." 
Already  in  His  prescient  view  the  sun  had  received  its  final 
commission  to  shine — and  earth  had  received  its  general  out- 


108  THE  VOICE  OF  GOD'S  ETEENAL  WISDOM. 

line  of  Alp,  and  Apennine,  and  Himalaya — of  Atlantic,  Pa- 
cific, and  Mediterranean.  Already  Eden  bloomed,  and  a 
river  went  out  of  it  to  water  the  p;arden.  Man's  mansion 
was  prejDared — but  where  was  the  great  inhabitant  ?  The 
theatre  was  ready — ^where  was  the  being  on  whose  introduc- 
tion the  mighty  drama  should  begin  ?  Already,  in  intention, 
He  saw  that  creature  come,  radiant  in  His  own  image — the 
cro^\ai  of  creation ;  and  as  He  saw,  He  already  heard  the 
morning  stars  sing  together — saw  earth's  first  Sabbath  dawn 
— ^beheld  man's  earliest  act  of  adoration,  and  pronounced  the 
whole  to  be  good.  Even  then,  though  they  existed  only  in 
His  Divine  purpose,  He  "rejoiced  in  the  habitable  parts  of 
the  earth,  and  His  delights  were  with  the  sons  of  men."  He 
foresaw  His  blessing  enlarging  Japheth,  and  causing  him  to 
dwell  in  the  tents  of  Shem.  His  purpose  had  formed  the 
gTcat  continents  of  the  earth — had  smoothed  the  valleys 
where  nations  should  be  cradled — and  given  direction  to  the 
course  of  the  rivers,  whose  banks  should  become  the  seat  of 
empire.  The  subsequent  distribution  of  Canaan  among  the 
tribes  of  Israel  was  only  the  transcription  of  an  eternal  plan. 
"Eemember  the  days  of  old,  consider  the  years  of  many 
generations :  ask  thy  father,  and  he  will  shew  thee ;  thy 
elders,  and  they  will  tell  thee.  When  the  Most  High  divided 
to  the  nations  their  inheritance,  when  he  separated  the  sons 
of  Adam,  he  set  the  bounds  of  the  peoi3le  according  to  the 
number  of  the  children  of  Israel."  Yes,  before  Moses — before 
Pisgah  itself,  from  which  Moses  looked  down  on  the  promised 
land,  existed — His  eye  had  looked  do^vn  from  the  height  of 
His  sanctuary,  and  had  beheld  prospectively  that  Sinai  whence 
His  law  should  be  given — that  Zion  which  should  be  crowned 
with  His  temple — that  Calvary  which  should  receive  the 
mystery  of  the  Cross. 

Now,  that  the  prospect  of  this  development  of  His  great 
plan  afforded  Him  profoimd  satisfaction  is  evident,  not  only 
from  the  Scriptures  already  quoted,  but  from  the  fact  that 
He  has  sought  at  times  to  throw  His  Church  into  an  ecstasy 


THE  VOICE  OF  GOD  S  ETERNAL  WISDOM.  109 

of  delight  by  affording  tliem  glimpses  of  its  onward  course. 
All  the  sublime  disclosures  of  j^ropliecy  are  merely  glimpses 
of  that  future  on  which  His  eye  is  perpetually  fixed,  and  by 
the  prospect  of  which  He  would  fain  admit  His  people  to  a 
fellbwship  in  His  own  delight.  And  all  the  satisfaction  those 
disclosures  have  ever  yielded  to  an  Abraham,  who  saw  his 
day  and  was  glad — to  a  David,  an  Isaiah,  an  Ezekiel,  a  Paul, 
a  John,  entranced  with  the  vision  to  the  whole  Church, 
which,  having  seen  them  afar  off,  were  persuaded  of  them, 
and  embraced  them,  and  died  in  exulting  faith — all  this  is 
only  as  a  particle  of  the  boundless  joy  which  they  have  ever 
set  before  Him. 

3.  There  was  the  happiness  of  prospectively  beholding  the 
effects  arising  from  His  gratuitous  interposition  for  human 
salvation.  He  enjoyed  that.  If,  owing  to  no  defect  in  the 
original  constitution  of  the  great  plan  of  Providence,  any  part 
of  that  plan.be  violated  by  man;  and  if,  omng  to  no  original 
defect  in  man,  but  owing  to  his  abuse  of  his  necessary  free 
agency,  that  violation  take  place ;  and  if,  therefore,  without 
any  claim  on  the  Divine  interjDosition,  the  Mediator  yet 
determined  to  remedy  the  evil — to  take  advantage  of  it  in  a 
way  which  shall  accrue  to  the  infinite  good  of  the  very  beings 
who  had  introduced  the  evil — who  can  picture  His  satisfac- 
tion in  the  prospect  of  such  a  result?  Accordingly,  there 
is  a  class  of  Scriptures  which  represents  Him  as  rejoicing 
in  the  prospect.  Had  sin  brought  the  world  into  a  crisis  in 
which  the  only  alternative  to  its  destruction  was  an  exj^ia- 
tory  sacrifice  which  He  alone  could  render?  "  Sacrifice  and 
offering,''  said  He,  "  sacrifice  and  offering  such  as  man  can 
provide,  thou  didst  not  desire;  but  a  body  hast  thou  pre- 
pared for  me.  Lo,  I  come  to  give  it  a  sacrifice,  and  to  do 
thy  wiU,  0  my  God.''  Had  sin  depraved  the  race,  and 
reduced  it  to  a  state  in  which  even  that  sacrifice  by  itself 
would  be  unavailing?  "  I  will  pour  out  my  Spirit  upon  all 
flesh,"  saith  He;  "I  will  give  them  new  hearts  and  inght 
spirits."     Had  sin  converted  the  earth  into  a  vast  sepulchre? 


110  THE  VOICE  OF  GOD'S  ETERNAL  WISDOM. 

"  I  will  ransom  them  from  the  grave/'  said  He ;  "0  death,  I 
will  be  thy  plagues;  0  grave,  I  will  be  thy  destruction/' 
Yes,  even  then,  as  He  surveyed  the  waste  and  desolation 
occasioned  by  sin,  He  that  sat  upon  the  throne  proclaimed, 
"  Behold,  I  make  all  things  new/'  And  as  He  said  this.  He 
clearly  foresaw  what  would  be  the  fearful  result  if  He  were 
not  to  interj^ose.  The  satisfaction  which  He  felt,  therefore, 
in  the  contemplation  of  what  He  j^roj^osed  to  do,  was  height- 
ened by  the  vivid  contrast  in  which  it  stood  before  His 
view  with  what  must  be  the  dreadful  alternative  if  He  did 
not  interpose.  And  when  He  anticipated  the  day  in  which 
He  should  come  to  be  glorified  in  His  saints,  and  admired  in 
all  them  that  believe;  when  the  grateful  strain  of  adoring- 
myriads  came  on  His  ear,  ascribing  to  Him  salvation,  and 
honour,  and  glory,  and  power ;  when,  in  addition  to  the  many 
crowns  uj)on  His  head,  He  foresaw  the  myriads  cast  before 
His  feet;  when  He  thus  saw  of  the  travail  of  His  soul.  He 
was  satisfied. 

4.  Then  there  was  the  happiness  derivable  from  knowing 
that,  imj^ortant  as  the  recovery  of  man  is,  in  attaining  it  He 
should  he  attaining  an  end  greater  still — attaining  the 
greatest  of  all  ends,  the  manifestation  of  the  Divine  glory. 
Now,  if  this  end  be  so  great  that  every  other  stands  to  it 
only  in  the  relation  of  means — if  this  is  infinitely  greater 
than  all  other  ends  combined,  the  hapj^iness  arising  from  the 
attainment  of  it  must  be  infinitely  greater  also.  The  hajipi- 
ness  flowing  from  the  spectacle  of  a  redeemed  and  happy 
creation  must  be  great ;  for  He  knew,  not  only  what  would 
l^e  the  exact  measure  of  its  happiness  at  this  moment,  but 
hbw  happy  it  will  be  ten  thousand  ages  hence,  when  its  capa- 
city for  happiness  will  have  increased  ten  thousandfold,  with 
all  the  happiness  it  will  have  enjoyed  in  the  interval,  and  so 
on  for  ever.  Tlie  happiness  again  flowing  from  the  fact  that, 
on  account  of  L  '^ncdiatorial  work,  He  is  the  object  of  the 
Father's  infinite  delight,  is  greater  still.  For  He  estimates 
that  complacency  at  its  proper  worth,  which  is  infinite — 


THE  VOICE  OF  GOD's  ETERNAL  AVISDOM.  HI 

absolutely  infinite.  But  inconceivably  liigh  as  He  values  tliat 
complacency,  more  highly  still  does  He  value  that  glory  for  the 
manifestation  of  which  that  complacency  is  accorded  to  Him. 
The  prospect  of  beholding  a  universe  of  dependent  beings 
hanging  on  independent  All-sufficience — every  heart  a  channel 
through  which  a  fulness  of  delight  is  constantly  streaming 
from  the  great  central  source,  and  every  moment  enlarging  to 
receive  more — every  sin  forgiven,  every  evil  remedied,  every 
want  supplied — the  whole  reflecting  and  replenished  with  the 
Divine  glory — this  is  the  consummation  of  that  joy  which  is 
set  before  Him.  Much  as  He  may  delight  in  the  favour  of 
Deity,  He  rates  the  glory  of  the  Deity  higher  still ;  for  it  is 
that  which  gives,  even  to  His  favour,  all  its  value ;  so  that 
to  be  the  means  of  manifesting  it  to  the  universe  is  the 
crown  of  His  mediatorial  happiness,  as  it  is  the  end  of 
creation. 

II. 

Now,  if  from  the  beginning  the  welfare  of  man,  in  harmony 
with  the  Divine  glory,  has  thus  engaged  the  complacent 
regard  of  the  Mediator,  we  m^ay  expect,  secondly,  that  all  His 
communications  and  intercourse  with  us  woidd  he  made  to 
harmonize  with  our  welfare  also.  True,  this  expectation 
takes  it  for  granted  that  He  foresaw  the  a230stasy  and  ruin  of 
man,  otherivise  we  should  not  have  known  what  course  He 
might  have  taken  towards  us.  Great  as  His  delight  w^as  in 
the  contemplation  of  man  as  innocent,  what  the  view  was 
which  He  would  take  of  us  as  guilty,  unless  He  himself  had 
informed  us,  no  finite  mind  could  have  possibly  conceived. 
But  the  prospective  delight  spoken  of  in  the  text  is  that  v/hich 
He  felt  in  the  contemplation  of  His  intercourse  with  us  as 
ruined,  in  order  to  our  recovery.  Eelying,  therefore,  on  His 
wisdom  and  resources,  we  are  warranted  in  expecting  that  all 
His  communications  with  us  will  harmonize  with  the  wants 
of  our  nature — that  the  means  will  be  adajDted  to  the  end. 
Accordingly,  the  text  implies  that  so  perfect  is  the  adaptation 


112  THE  VOICE  OF  GOD'S  ETERNAL  WISDOM. 

between  tlie  provisions  of  mercy  and  the  necessity  of  man, 
that  he  who  rejects  them  ^vrongs  his  own  soul — that  he  who 
receives  them  receives  life. 

Tell  us,  then,  we  would  say  to  an  inquirer  on  the  subject — 
tell  us  the  distinguishing  ivants  of  human  nature,  and  we  will 
tell  you  the  distinguishing  excellencies  of  Divine  revelation. 
Take  a  comprehensive  survey  of  the  hunian  family,  and  say, 
as  an  ancient  prophet  was  sometimes  bidden  to  say,  "  What 
seest  thou?'"*  "  A  vast  theatre,  crowded  with  active  beings.'^ 
Consider  them  well  and  say,  from  what  you  behold,  what 
would  you  regard  as  their  chief  characteristics  ?  That  they 
are  intelligent,  suffering,  guilty,  and  immortal  beings. 

1.  From  their  eager  inquiries  and  their  signs  of  reflection, 
you  infer  that  they  are  intelligent  beings,  and  from  other  signs 
you  infer  that  the  subjects  which  most  deeply  interest  them 
are  those  which  refer  to  their  origin,  their  character,  and  their 
relation  to  the  invisible  and  the  future.  Need  we  remind  you 
what  man's  own  unaided  solutions  of  these  problems  are  ? — 
how  puerile,  how  contradictory,  how  absurd  !  But  come  and 
see  the  Divine  explanation  of  the  mystery.  Taking  us  back 
to  the  creation  of  man,  it  declares  that  he  was  formed  for 
holiness  and  enjoyment — that  as  a  free  agent  he  was  able  to 
stand,  yet  free  to  fall — that  his  guilt  and  misery  originated  in 
a  voluntary  act  of  disobedience  against  God.  And  does  not 
this  account  for  that  feeling  of  which  you  ar3  often  conscious 
— of  a  dignity  dej^arted,  of  a  happiness  blighted  ?  does  it  not 
account  for  your  moral  conflicts  and  your  yet  lingering  admi- 
ration of  spiritual  excellence  and  worth  ?  Tearing  away  the 
veil  from  your  breast,  it  declares  of  your  conscience  that  it  is 
a  dethroned  power,  and  of  your  heart  that  it  is  deceitful  and 
depraved,  and  of  your  nature  that  it  is  tainted  in  its  springs 
and  principles ;  and  every  fibre  of  your  system  thrills  to  the 
truth  of  the  appeal.  It  makes  the  statement  universal — ^^vith 
a  bold  and  comprehensive  generality,  it  declares,  "  There  is 
none  righteous ;  no,  not  one.''  With  the  fearlessness  of  a 
wisdom  which  cannot  err,  and  of  a  truth  which  cannot  lie,  it 


THE  VOICE  OF  GOD's  ETERNAL  WISDOM.  113 

affirms,  "  All  have  sinned,  and  come  short  of  the  glory  of 
God/'  And  not  a  single  exception  to  the  truth  of  the  allega- 
tion has  ever  appeared.  Taking  us  into  the  presence  of  God 
and  rolling  away  the  clouds  from  before  His  throne,  it  dis- 
closes to  us  a  being,  not  of  natural  merely,  but  of  moral  per- 
fection— so  holy,  that  it  interprets  all  our  fears  of  Him — so 
just,  that  we  wonder  not  at  our  past  emotions  of  dread — and 
yet  so  compassionate  and  gracious,  that  our  utmost  hopes 
are  infinitely  surpassed ;  while  to  all  this  it  adds  the  infor- 
mation of  the  existence  of  other  orders  of  beings  and  of  other 
worlds,  and  tells  us  that  it  imparts  the  knowledge  because 
we  are,  personally,  deeply  interested  in  the  solemn  disclosure. 
Yes,  it  has  nothing  for  a  vain  curiosity — it  trifles  with  no  man 
— its  tones  are  earnest  as  the  thunder,  and  it  goes  to  its  object 
direct  as  the  bolt  of  the  lightning. 

2.  But  look  again  on  the  human  family,  and  say — AVhat 
other  characteristic  do  you  regard  as  distinguishing  them? 
Do  you  not  see  the  streaming  tears  of  some,  and  hear  the 
groans  of  others,  and  mark  the  haggard  looks  and  the  bowed 
and  wasted  forms  of  others  ?  and  can  you  doubt  that  man  is 
a  sufferer  ?    And  say,  before  you  mthdraw  your  eyes  from 
the  moving  spectacle,  say — What  do  you  see  them  ministering 
to  each  other's  relief?      Do  they  tell  the  suff'erer  of  fixed, 
irrevocable  fate — advise  him  to  front  with  defiance  the  ills 
which  he  cannot  escape — and,  when  he  can  bear  no  more,  do 
they  help  him  to  the  dagger  and  the  poison  ?      Do  you  see 
them  at  least  pointing  him  to  the  grave  as  the  end  of  his 
troubles  ?     Miserable  comforters  are  they  all !     And  yet  this 
is  all   that  the  religion  of  the  Pantheon,  the  Pagoda,  the 
Mosque,  the  Temple  of  Eeason  can  do  for  him.     With  this, 
their  resources  of  consolation  are  all  exhausted.     For  sorrow, 
in  truth,  has  but  two  places  of  refuge — the  sanctuary  and  the 
grave.     You  have  seen  the  latter — turn  now  to  the  former, 
and  see  what  God  provides.     Would  it  alleviate  the  distress 
of  the  sufierer  to  know  that  he  is  not  abandoned  to  a  blind 
chance  and  a  relentless  destiny  ?     The  Bible  draws  aside  the 

H 


1]4  THE  VOICE  OF  GOD'S  ETERNAL  WISDOM. 

veil  wliicli  hides  tlie  spiritual  world  from  our  view;  and, 
behold,  a  vast  scheme  of  providence  administered  by  God 
himself,  in  which  every  want  is  noticed — every  object  num- 
bered— every  being  moving  in  the  direct  gaze  of  Omniscience. 
Would  the  assurance  of  symj^athy  lighten  the  sufferer's  griefs  ? 
The  Bible  assures  him  that  there  is  a  sense  in  which  every 
earthly  pang  vibrates  to  the  throne  of  God — thrills  the  very 
heart  of  Divine  compassion.  Hence  the  Bible  contains  a 
promise  for  every  pang  that  rends — a  solace  for  every  throb 
that  beats  in  the  human  breast.  Hence  it  brings  the  most 
afflicted  the  nearest  to  the  throne  of  grace — reserves  for  him 
there  the  favoured  place.  Hence  the  Son  of  God  himself 
became  a  man  of  sorrows,  that  He  might  be  able  to  succour 
them  that  are  tempted.  Should  it  sustain  the  sufferer  to 
know  that  his  trials  may  conduce  to  his  moral  improvement 
here,  and  more  still,  to  his  blessedness  hereafter?  Let  him 
know  that  there  are  lines  of  relation  between  every  sanctified 
trial  on  earth  and  the  highest  throne  in  heaven.  Would  he 
see  the  men  who  once  had  the  world  against  them  for  their 
attachment  to  Christ  ?  He  must  look  for  them  now  before 
the  throne  of  God.  He  will  find  them  now,  with  a  number 
which  no  man  can  number,  clad  in  robes  of  royalty,  and 
having  palms  of  victory  in  their  hands.  Oh,  blessed  arrange- 
ment, and  worthy  of  a  God,  by  which  our  light  afflictions, 
and  but  for  a  moment,  can  thus  be  made  to  work  out  for  us 
a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory  ! 

3.  But  man  is  not  merely  a  rational  and  a  suffering  being. 
Look  again  on  the  restless  crowds,  and  say  by  what  other 
marks  are  they  distinguished  ?  What  mean  those  altars, 
ever-streaming  blood — those  keen  self-ujDbraidings — those 
cruel  self-inflictions — that  offer  to  sacrifice  even  the  fruit  of 
the  body  for  the  sin  of  the  soul  ?  Do  they  not  all  proclaim 
a  deep-seated  sense  of  2:>ersonal  sinfulness — remorse,  which 
calls  for  atonement — self-dissatisfaction,  which  can  be  allayed 
by  nothing  less  than  a  new  nature?  And  can  it  be,  you 
inq^uire,  that  the  Mediator  has  made  provision  for  these  neces- 


THE  VOICE  OF  GOD'S  ETERNAL  WISDOM.  115 

sities  ?  Yes,  come  with  us,  and  we  will  sliew  you  a  sight 
which  has  already  moved  all  heaven,  and  which  is  destined 
to  move  all  earth.  We  lead  you  to  it  through  a  long  array 
of  types,  and  emblems,  and  impressive  rites ;  these  are  only 
the  august  preparations  for  the  event.  Behold  that  cross, 
and  know  that  in  the  i)erson  of  Him  who  there  expires  you 
see  the  Mediator  himself — God  manifest  in  the  flesh.  It  was 
our  only  means  of  escape  from,  destruction,  and  He  volun- 
tarily submits  to  it.  To  say  that  He  foresaw  this  necessity, 
is  only  saying  that  He  is  equal  to  the  mediatorial  ofllice. 
And  to  say  that  He  yet  undertook  that  office  voluntarily,  is 
only  saying  that  He  who  is  at  the  head  of  a  system  of  free 
agency  is  Himself  a  free  agent.  But  that  He  should  have 
done  this — that  He  who  was  co-equal  with  the  Father  should 
have  voluntarily  subordinated  Himself — that  He  who  had 
known  no  necessity  but  that  of  being,  and  of  being  what  He 
was,  should  have  brought  Hunself  under  obligation — that  He, 
who  had  kno^vn  no  relation  but  that  of  the  ineffable  union 
of  the  Godhead,  should  bind  Himself  to  sustain  relations  in- 
finitely inferior — that  He  should  in  any  sense  have  so  come 
forth  from  the  Godhead  as  to  enter  into  relations  with  the 
creatures,  and  to  bind  Himself  to  do  everything  necessary  for 
their  welfare — that  He,  the  beginning  of  creation,  should 
range  Himself  in  a  line  with  His  ovni  creatures,  subjecting 
Himself  to  His  own  laws — and  doing  this  for  the  express 
purpose  of  dying — dying  as  an  expiation  for  human  guilt — 
dying  that  justice  might  have  a  compensation  to  accept,  and 
that  mercy  might  have  forgiveness  to  bestow — these  are 
wonders  resolvable  only  into  the  depths  of  infinite  compas- 
sion for  us,  and  infinite  regard  for  the  Divine  glory.  This 
was  the  joy  which  from  eternity  was  set  before  Him  ;  and 
hence  you  see  Him  enduring  the  cross,  and  despising  the 
shame. 

Nor  is  this  all ;  the  vicarious  sacrifice  of  Christ,  while  pro- 
viding a  complete  satisfaction  for  human  guilt,  provides  that 
which  you  equally  require — means  for  the  renovation  of  your 


116  THE  VOICE  OF  GOD's  ETERNAL  WISDOM. 

sinful  nature,  and  motives  to  a  constant  progress  in  holi- 
ness. You  cannot  look  upon  the  cross  of  Christ,  cannot 
enter  into  its  mediatorial  design,  without  feeling  that  a  virtue 
comes  out  of  it,  that  the  Sjoirit  is  honouring  and  employing 
it  as  the  means  of  your  renovation.  Yes,  so  wonderfully 
adapted  to  the  suscejDtibilities,  so  exquisitely  adjusted  to  all 
the  springs  of  our  nature  is  the  cross  of  Christ,  that,  in  the 
hand  of  the  Spirit,  it  relieves  our  apprehensions,  while  it 
quickens  our  sensibility — gives  peace  to  the  conscience,  while 
it  increases  its  activity  and  power — inspires  hope,  while  it  pro- 
duces humility,  by  the  very  magnitude  and  splendour  of  the 
objects  which  inspire  it — demands  perfection,  by  presenting 
the  affections  with  an  object  calculated  to  produce  it. 

4.  But  man  is  not  merely  a  rational,  suffering,  sinful  being. 
Cast  another  glance  at  the  heaving  and  restless  mass  of 
humanity,  and  you  will  find  that  it  is  groaning  and  travailing 
together  in  pain,  casting  anxious  looks  on  the  future,  gazing  on 
the  distant  darkness,  invoking  the  dead,  and  that  the  burden  of 
its  great  anxiety  is  this — "  If  a  man  die,  shall  he  live  again  V 
We  will  not  ask  you  to  remember  the  vague  and  contradictory 
replies  which  this  question  has  received  from  human  lioj^es  and 
fears.  We  will  take  you  at  once  to  Him  who  is  the  "  Ee- 
surrection  and  the  Life."  Do  you  see  that  form  of  majesty 
standing  at  the  mouth  of  the  sepidchre,  radiant  with  immor- 
tality? That  is  He  who  was  dead  and  is  alive  again,  and 
who  liveth  for  evermore,  and  hath  the  keys  of  death  and  of 
the  invisible  world.  Do  you  mark  that  vision  of  dissolving 
elements,  of  the  rising  dead,  of  the  great  white  throne,  of 
the  opened  books,  arid  of  the  assembled  universe  ?  It  is  the 
representation  of  the  final  day,  when  you  and  all  your  race 
will  receive  your  eternal  allotments,  according  to  the  deeds 
done  in  the  body.  Do  you  feel  a  capacity  for  ever- advancing 
excellence,  a  longing  for  ever-increasing  happiness?  The 
heaven  of  the  Bible  is  eternally  set  apart  for  both.  There, 
nothinir  that  defileth  can  enter.  There,  excellence  will  know 
no  pause  in  its  progress  from  throne  to  throne,  happiness  no 


THE  VOICE  OF  GOD's  ETERNAL  WISDOM.  117 

interruiDtion  to  its  ever-widening  deepening  stream.  Thus 
the  Gospel  liath  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light — 
brought  them  from  an  unknown  distance,  and  placed  them 
before  us — brought  heaven,  with  all  its  glories,  into  ou7^  hori- 
zon— brought  the  very  throne  of  judgment  so  near  to  us, 
that  whenever  we  will  we  can  place  ourselves  before  it — 
surrounded  us  with  the  solemn  pomp  and  the  spiritual  inha- 
bitants of  the  unseen  world — so  surrounded  us  that  they  look 
down  on  us,  press  in  on  us — that,  do  what  we  will,  we  feel 
that  we  are  moving  under  the  powers  of  the  world  to  come. 

Now,  such  are  parts  of  that  great  system  of  saving  truth 
by  which  the  Saviour  seeks  to  realize  those  purposes  of  mercy 
towards  us,  the  bare  contemplation  of  which  filled  Him  with 
delight.  So  perfect  is  their  adaptation  in  this  respect,  that 
no  one  present  can  reject  them  without  wronging  his  oivn 
soul.  Yes,  his  soul;  his  health  may  not  suffer  in  conse- 
quence, his  worldly  prosperity  may  not  decline — but  his  soul, 
the  noblest  part  of  his  nature,  is  wronged.  This  whole  sys- 
tem of  truth  was  meant  for  it,  expressly  constructed  for  his 
soul,  and  his  soul  constructed  for  it — they  were  designed  for 
each  other,  so  that,  as  long  as  he  stands  aloof  from  it,  he  is 
wronging  his  own  soul.  Here  is  the  rich  inheritance — his 
soul  is  the  only  part  of  him  capable  of  enjoying  it,  and  he  is 
wronging  the  immortal  heir  of  its  immortal  inheritance. 
And  dying  thus,  the  VvTong  will  be  irretrievable,  eternal. 
He  will  ever  carry  about  with  him  a  T\Tonged  soul ;  for  he 
will  for  ever  carry  about  in  his  soul  some  faculties  unused, 
capacities  unfilled,  powers  undeveloj^ed  ;  for  of  the  only  thing 
which  could  have  developed  and  filled  them,  he  wronged  it. 
The  full  extent  of  the  wi^ono-  he  will  never  know.  Thouoh 
his  sense  of  the  wrong  will  be  perpetually  increasing,  ten 
thousand  ages  will  have  only  partially  revealed  to  him  its 
untold  extent. 

But  then,  in  proportion  to  that  loss  if  he  neglect  it,  is 
Ms  gain  if  he  find  it — he  finds  life.  Not  merely  existence, 
but  all  that   can   enricli,    expand,    and  make  it  infinitely 


118  THE  VOICE  OF  GOD's  ETERNAL  WISDOM. 

desirable — motives  for  all  its  actions,  and  objects  for  its 
noblest  affections.  Not  merely  deliverance  from  death,  bnt 
its  very  opposite — tlie  favour  of  the  Lord.  Finds  himself 
standing  in  the  light  of  that  favonr — sharing  it  with  the 
cherubim — sharing  it  with  Christ  himself  Finds  a  world  in 
which  to  enjoy  it :  this  world  is  too  confined  for  it :  it  asks 
the  scope  of  infinity  for  its  expansion.  And  after  the  lapse 
of  ten  thousand  ages,  he  will  feel  as  if  he  were  only  just 
commencing  its  enjoyment ; — it  is  the  very  crown  of  life. 

Now,  it  was  the  perception  of  this  happy  result  which 
engaged  the  complacent  regards  of  the  Saviour  from  eternity. 
He  could  not  think  of  the  human  soul  as  defrauded  of 
happiness,  and  toiling  for  ever  in  its  guilt,  without  com- 
passion. And  when  He  saw  how  perfectly  adapted  the  whole 
system  of  mediation  was  to  meet  the  exigence — how,  in  effect, 
it  would  give  back  God  to  the  soul,  and  the  soul  to  God  ; 
and  when  He  thought  of  Himself  as  the  medium  for  eff'ecting 
this  end — of  all  the  happiness  it  would  bring  to  man,  and  all 
the  glory  it  would  cause  to  redound  to  God — His  complacency 
rose  to  infinite  delight. 

III. 

Then,  thirdly,  if  from  the  beginning  the  Saviour  has 
rejoiced  in  the  habitable  part  of  the  earth,  and  if  He  has 
thus  graciously  adapted  all  his  communications  to  its  welfare, 
may  we  not  infer,  must  we  not  expect,  that  even  of  this 
habitable  part  He  would  rejoice  in  some  spots  more  than  in 
others,  especially  in  such  as  are  set  apart  for  the  diffusion  of 
His  truth  and  the  promotion  of  His  designs  1  Under  the 
former  economy.  He  commanded  the  erection  of  such  a  place, 
superintended  everything  belonging  to  it,  engaged  that  His 
eye  and  His  heart  should  be  there  ^perpetually,  designated  it 
tlis  own  house,  distinguished  it  with  His  richest  blessing. 
In  the  text  we  find  Him  inviting  men  to  re2:)air  to  it,  and 
pronouncing  a  blessing  on  the  man  who  was  found  "  watch- 
ing at  his  gates,  waiting  at  the  posts  of  his  doors,"     And 


THE  VOICE  OP  god's  ETEENiVL  AVISDO]\I.  119 

tlie  reason  is  obvious ;  for,  liaving  an  end  to  accomplish,  He 
values  everything  according  to  its  tendency  to  jn'omote  that 
end.  ■  And  if  He  rejoices  in  the  habitable  part  of  the  earth, 
simply  because  it  is  to  be  the  scene  where  that  end  is  to  be 
attained,  much  more  will  He  rejoice  in  any  spot  of  its 
inhabited  regions  actually  devoted  to  that  end — made  sacred 
to  its  attainment 

For,  think  of  the  special  relation  which  such  a  j^lace  bears 
to  those  gracious  communications  and  purposes  of  which  we 
have  been  speaking.  Those  of  you  who  are  at  all  acquainted 
with  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind  need  not  be 
informed  that  it  is  constructed  to  receive  impressions  from 
everything  around  us — that  the  value  of  visible  and  sensible 
objects  consists  chiefly  in  serving  as  memorials  and  emblems 
of  the  spiritual  and  invisible — and  that  all  our  deepest  and 
noblest  impressions  should  be  received  from  these.  Man 
was  to  have  moved  over  the  face  of  the  earth  as  amidst 
the  types  and  symbolic  services  of  a  temple,  where  every- 
thing was  adapted  to  remind  him  of  God.  His  every 
step  was  to  bring  him  into  the  presence  of  some  new 
object,  from  which  he  should  receive  some  fresh  impres- 
sion, reminding  him  of  God  But  you  need  not  be  told 
that  sin  has  disturbed  this  adjustment,  and  thrown  it 
into  confusion.  The  temple  remains,  but  man  is  no  longer 
a  worshipper.  The  objects  remain,  but  not  now  as  types 
and  symbols,  but  as  realities  and  idols.  The  mind  within 
him  retains  its  susceptibility  of  impression,  but  the  imj)res- 
sion  no  longer  leads  it  up  in  humble  adoration  to  God.  For 
him,  that  glorious  Being,  and  the  heaven  He  inhabits,  and 
all  the  realities  of  the  invisible  world  have,  in  effect,  ceased 
to  exist.  He  seldom  visits  them  even  in  thought.  The  vast 
circumference  which  he  was  meant  to  range  through  at  will 
has  drawn  in  around  him,  like  the  shades  of  the  evening, 
into  a  narrower  and  yet  narrower  circle,  until  he  lives  in  a 
liorizon  which  can  be  measured — spanned.  And,  then,  think 
of  the  few  objects  of  sense  which  this  circle  includes.    By 


120  THE  VOICE  OF  GOD'S  ETEENAL  WISDOM. 

being  constantly  present  to  his  vietu,  tliey  are  constantly 
present  to  his  mind,  influencing,  tyrannizing  over  him, 
engrossing  him  all  to  themselves. 

Now,  clo  you  not  see  that  if  this  state  of  things  is  to  be 
remedied,  some  counter-force,  some  antagonist  jDrinciple 
must  be  employed  to  make  him  aware  of  his  condition  ?  Do 
you  not  see  that  if  this  visible  world  is  not  to  engross  him 
entirely  to  itself,  the  invisible  must  either  open  a  communi- 
cation with  him,  which  shall  acquaint  him  with  its  existence 
and  its  claims  upon  him,  or  else,  throwing  off  its  invisible 
character,  and  coming  down  from  its  unlvno^\m  remoteness, 
must  burst  uj^on  him,  and  stand  forth  to  his  view  an  infinite 
and  an  ever-2oresent  reality  ?  Now,  He  who  has  undertaken 
our  salvation  has  clone  this ;  and  the  outline  of  truth  which 
we  just  now  gave  is  a  part  of  the  grand  result. 

But  how  is  the  proper  eff'ect  of  this  Divine  communication 
to  be  secured  ?  True,  God  may  have  spoken,  may  be  still 
speaking  to  us ;  but  a  thousand  other  voices  are  addressing 
us  also.  How  shall  He  obtain  a  hearing  ?  True,  the  invisible 
may  have  made  itself  visible,  but  then  it  is  only  one  visible 
object  among  many.  How  shall  it  rivet  attention  ?  Can  no 
place  be  set  apart,  no  portion  of  time  be  secured  for  this 
sjDGcial  purjDOse?  Can  no  circle  be  drawn,  however  small, 
within  the  hallowed  circumference  of  which  man  might 
escape  for  a  while  from  the  objects  of  earth,  and  surrender 
himself  entirely  to  the  influences  of  heaven  ?  Now,  do  you 
not  know  that  Cod  has  graciously  answered  this  inquiry? 
that  besides  other  means,  social  and  j^rivate,  he  has  actually 
made  this  provision,  by  the  institution  of  the  Sabbath  and 
the  appointment  of  j^ublic  worship  ?  Wise  and  gracious 
appointment !  Oh,  with  what  sacredness  of  character  does 
it  invest  the  sanctuary !  Here  heaven  takes  refuge  from 
earth,  that  it  may  afterwards  go  forth  and  take  possession 
of  earth.  Here  wisdom  makes  her  home,  not  to  keep  religion 
from  the  world,  but  to  keep  the  world  from  defeating  religion. 
Here  wisdom  stands  and  cries,  "  0  ye  children,  hear  instruc- 


THE  VOICE  OF  GOD'S  ETERNAL  WISDOM.  121 

tion,  and  be  wise ;  blessed  is  the  man  that  hearc-th  me : " 
not  that  she  refuses  to  go  to  Ms  home ;  but,  luith  a  view 
to  that,  she  invites  him  to  her  ow7i  home.  Her  subject 
demands  a  patient,  prayerful  hearing  ;  and  she  prepares  a 
sanctuary  expressly  for  the  pnrj)ose.  In  the  world,  if  you 
are  ever  visited  by  thoughts  and  vague  imaginings  which 
relate  to  the  soul  and  eternity,  surrounding  objects  speedily 
melt  and  scatter  them  into  thin  air ;  but  here  you  come  to 
have  your  hopes  explained,  your  fears  interpreted,  your 
impressions  deepened,  your  vague  conceptions  turned  into 
definite  realities.  There,  you  witness  crime  and  suffering, 
and  sometimes  shrink  at  them,  and  pronounce  them  un- 
paralleled ;  here,  you  are  to  see  the  gulf  of  perdition  ya^vn, 
and  the  unquenchable  flames  break  forth  at  your  feet,  and 
to  hear  the  cries  of  those  whose  torments  are  unjmralleled, 
and  to  be  reminded  that  you  yourself  are  in  danger  of  these. 
There,  you  may  hear  of  kindness,  and  sometimes  experience 
it,  and  perhaps  feel  at  a  loss  how  adequately  to  acknowledge 
it,  as  if,  forsooth,  you  knew  of  none  greater ;  but  here,  you 
are  to  be  told  of  a  love  so  great  that  all  the  kindness  of  earth 
is  only  a  type  of  it,  and  all  your  capacity  for  gratitude  only 
intended  to  help  you  to  apprehend  it,  to  enable  you  by 
sympathy  to  get  just  a  glimpse  of  it.  There,  you  mingle 
with  those  who  think  and  who  live  only  for  the  present, 
and  you  are  in  danger  of  living  like  them ;  here,  the  past 
and  the  future  meet  you,  the  distant  draws  near,  the  infinitely 
High  comes  do^\ii — all  the  influences  of  the  invisible  vrorld 
collect,  and  descend,  and  settle  round  you.  Yes,  here  you 
"  come  unto  Mount  Sion,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,''  for  this 
is  none  other  than  the  house  of  God,  the  ffate  of  heaven. 
Here  you  "come  to  an  innumerable  company  of  angels." 
Do  you  not  know  that  tJiey  are  impatient  to  rejoice  over  your 
rej^entance?  You  apj^roach  "the  general  assembly  and 
church  of  the  first-born,  who  are  written  in  heaven.''  Should 
you  not  feel  the  unearthly  grandeur  of  the  distiuction  ?  should 
it  not  eclipse  the  little  tinsel  dignities  of  the  world  without  ? 


122  THE  VOICE  OF  GOD'S  ETERNAL  WISDOM. 

You  draw  near  to  *'  God  the  judge  of  all/'  Will  you  not 
plead  guilty  before  Him,  and  deprecate  His  displeasure? 
And  rejoice  to  find  tliat  here  too  you  "come  to  Jesus,  the 
mediator  of  the  new  covenant/'  Will  you  not  approach  and 
entreat  Him  to  mediate  for  you  ?  He  expects  it — He  is  here 
expressly  to  espouse  your  cause.  And  do  you  not  see  the 
argument  which  He  is  prepared  to  plead  in  your  behalf — 
nay,  which  pleads  itself, — "  The  blood  of  sprinkling,  which 
speaketh  better  things  than  that  of  Abel,''  which  antici- 
pates your  speaking,  which  speaks  for  you  before  you  speak 
for  yourself,  and  on  accomit  of  which  alone  you  can  be 
heard  ? 

Oh,  with  what  sacredness  of  character  is  the  sanctuary  in- 
vested !  You  come  here  to  be  treated  as  rational,  suffering, 
sinful,  and  immortal  beings — beings  whose  happiness  was 
contemplated  and  provided  for  before  the  foundations  of  the 
world — yea,  even  before  the  first  creative  fiat  was  issued — 
before  the  material  of  which  this  fabric  is  built  had  come 
into  existence.  The  geologist  would  take  you  down  to  the 
foundations  of  the  earth,  and  tell  you,  as  you  stood  on  the 
primeval  granite,  that  you  vvere  standing  on  a  monument  of 
incalculable,  dateless  antiquity.  But  the  Bible  refers  you  to 
a  period  more  ancient  still — announces  that  when  as  yet  the 
earth  was  not  made,  before  the  mountains  were  settled  or 
the  hills  brought  forth,  your  welfare  had  occuj^ied  the  Eter- 
nal Mind — that  when  He  gave  to  the  sea  His  decree,  and  ap- 
pointed the  foundations  of  the  earth,  that  then  He  rejoiced 
in  the  habitable  parts  of  the  earth — that  if  He  formed  the 
uninhabitable,  it  was  for  the  sake  of  the  inhabitable — the 
physical  for  the  rational — the  material  for  the  spiritual.  So 
that  even  the  material  of  which  your  sanctuary  is  built,  date- 
less as  its  antiquity  may  be,  may  be  regarded  as  having  been 
brought  into  being  for  its  present  purpose — as  now  contri- 
buting to  a  purpose  more  ancient  than  its  ovn\  existence. 
An  end,  indeed,  it  has  always  been  answering — as  a  part  of 
the  material  globe,  it  has  always  been  contributing  by  the 


THE  VOICE  OF  GOD  S  ETERNAL  WISDOM.  123 

law  of  attraction  to  link  our  earth  to  all  the  worlds  that 
move  in  space.  But  now,  without  ceasing  to  assist  to  link 
one  material  globe  to  another,  by  being  built  into  a  house 
for  God,  it  is  indirectly  to  assist  in  linking  earth  to  heaven. 
Did  He  rejoice  prospectively  in  the  habitable  parts  of  the 
earth  —  the  parts  which  men  should  inhabit  —  how  much 
more  would  He  rejoice  in  the  parts  which  He  himself  should 
inhabit  I  the  places  which  they  would  build  that  He,  "the 
Lord  God,  might  dwell  among  them  !" 

Oh,  when  you  have  looked  at  times  on  a  map  of  the  globe, 
and  your  eye  has  glanced  awhile  from  pole  to  pole,  have  you 
ever  failed  to  turn  with  interest  to  your  own,  your  native 
land  ?  And  if,  besides  your  country,  you  could  recognize  the 
city  or  the  town  where  you  dwelt,  was  not  your  interest 
deepened  ?  But  if,  in  addition  to  that,  the  very  spot  of  your 
residence  could  have  been  denoted,  that  would  have  rendered 
your  interest  deeper  still.  Brethren,  a  map  there  is  which 
from  eternity  has  been  ever  extended  before  the  eye  of  God. 
In  that  map  of  the  universe,  the  orbit  of  every  star,  the  path 
of  every  planet,  and,  therefore,  of  our  earth,  is  traced ;  and 
as  often  as  His  eye  rested  on  the  habitable  parts,  so  often  did 
He  rejoice  with  an  infinite  joy.  Could  you  be  allowed  at  this 
moment  to  look  on  it,  and  to  have  your  eye  directed  towards 
the  spot  where  we  now  stand — think  you  that  you  would 
have  to  look  for  it  in  vain ?  What !  mans  habitations  de- 
noted, and  His  own  house  omitted  !  Rather  should  the  most 
renowned  cities  of  earth  be  omitted.  Yes,  rather  than  the 
humblest  spot  where  prayer  is  wont  to  be  made  should  be 
left  out,  all  the  palaces,  and  halls,  and  gilded  domes  of  earth 
should  be  for  ever  omitted.  But  no,  you  would  not  look  for 
it  in  vain.  You  would  find  it  denoted  by  a  point  of  light — 
you  would  see  it  marked  by  a  ray  of  glory.  And  as  you  re- 
member that  there  it  had  stood  to  His  foreseeing  eye  from 
eternity — and  as  you  glanced  from  it  to  behold  the  light  of 
His  countenance,  and  saw  that  His  eye  was  fixed  and  resting 
complacently  on  it — would  you  not  feel  that  it  was  invested 


124  THE  VOICE  OF  GOD's  ETEENAL  WISDOM, 

with  an  infinite  sacredness  and  imj^ortance  ?  Brethren,  more 
than  this  is  true.  He  does  not  confine  Himself  to  looking 
on — He  cannot  content  Himself  with  looking  down  upon  you 
from  an  unknown  height,  however  compL^cently  ;  nor  could 
you  be  content  that  He  shoulcL  Have  you  not  invited — 
invoiced  His  presence  ?  Has  He  not  often  descended  ;  is  He 
not  now  present — present  to  record  His  name  here — present 
to  lay  His  commands  on  you  afresh,  and  to  re2>eat  His  pro- 
mises, as  if  He  were  now  uttering  them  for  the  first  time  ? 
To  the  Church  He  is  saying,  "  As  often  as  you  meet  here  in 
my  name,  I  will  be  in  the  midst  of  you/'  And  to  the  minister 
He  is  saying,  "  Feed  the  Church  which  I  have  purchased  with 
my  o^vn  blood  ;  and  as  to  the  unconverted,  beseech  them,  in 
my  stead,  to  be  reconciled  to  Crod/'  And  concerning  the 
young,  He  is  saying  to  minister  and  people,  "Here  bring 
them  to  me,  that  I  may  bless  them.  Here  let  me  see  of  the 
travail  of  my  soul  and  be  satisfied.  From  eternity  I  have 
rejoiced  in  the  prospect  of  what  I  now  behold,  for  I  have 
ever  beheld  it  in  its  relation  to  my  purposes  of  mercy ;  and 
now  mine  eye  is  fixed  on  its  distant  issue  in  the  eternity  to 
come.  Here  let  my  gospel  be  faithfully  proclaimed,  and  prac- 
tically exemplified ;  and  my  joy  shall  be  perpetuated  and 
auoinented  for  ever/' 

IV. 

Then,  fourthly,  let  this  remind  us  of  what  He  may  he  sup- 
2')osed  to  expect  from  a  place  thus  distinguished.  Of  course 
when  we  speak  of  the  ^j?«ce  in  such  a  connexion,  we  can  only 
intend  the  people  who  meet  in  it.  For  them  it  exists ;  and 
to  them  all  the  jiurposes  of  mercy  with  which  its  walls  may 
echo  have  been  addressed. 

1st,  He  expects  you  to  sympatldze  luith  Him  in  his  re- 
gard for  human  happiness.  If  He  has  taken  you  into  His 
counsels,  and  shewn  you  that  from  eternity  He  has  delighted 
in  the  sons  of  men,  it  is  in  order  to  inspire  you  with  the 
same  emotions.     If  He  has  shewn  you  the  studied  adaptation 


THE  VOICE  OF  GOD  S  ETERNAL  WISDOM.       125 

of  His  Gospel  to  the  wants  of  intelligent,  suffering,  sinful, 
immortal  man — it  is  that  you  may  look  abroad  on  your  i^erish- 
ing  race  with  a  yearning  desire  to  apply  the  remedy.  If  He 
has  called  you  to  a  participation  of  His  grace — it  is  that  you, 
in  employing  His  Gospel  as  the  instrument  of  human  salva- 
tion, may  act  with  confidence  in  its  sufficiency — it  is  that, 
constrained  by  His  love,  there  may  be  no  limits  set  to  your 
efforts  for  His  glory.  If  He  has  shewn  you  how  He  from 
eternity  has  devoted  His  vast  resources  to  the  welfare  of  man 
— it  is  that  you,  if  possible,  may  be  shamed  out  of  the  idea  of 
devoting  less  than  your  all  to  the  same  object.  We  are 
called  to  be  the  i^epresentatives  of  His  grace  to  the  world ; 
and  are  our  powers  so  capacious,  our  natm-es  so  exalted,  that 
less  than  the  consecration  of  the  whole  should  be  able  to  con- 
vey an  idea  of  His  grace?  Oh,  if  He  has  organized  his 
j)eoj)le  into  a  Church — it  is  partly  because  no  individual 
Christian,  whatever  his  devotedness  may  be;  no  single 
separate  society  of  Christians,  though  each  member  were  a 
Paul,  an  ApoUos,  or  a  Cephas ;  nothing  less  than  the  ivhole 
body  of  Christians,  strengthened  by  union,  fired  with  mutual 
emulation,  with  their  energies  compacted  and  concentrated 
into  the  force  of  a  single  power — can  ever  represent  the  unity 
of  His  design  for  human  salvation,  and  the  entireness  of  His 
devotion  to  its  accomplishment.  To  save  the  world  was  His 
vocation,  His  supreme  and  single  object ;  so  that,  in  order  to 
represent  Him,  His  people  must  make  it  their  one  business 
and  calling  to  carry  out  His  gracious  design. 

2dly,  He  expects  you  then  to  aim  at  results,  and  to  look 
for  them.  It  is  the  prospect  of  these  which  has  ever  filled 
Him  with  delight.  Think  you  that  He  would  have  rejoiced 
in  the  habitable  parts  of  the  earth— that  He  himself  would 
have  visited  the  earth — would  have  become  the  Son  of  man 
— would  have  said,  in  reference  to  His  sacrificial  death, 
"How  am  I  straitened  until  it  be  accomplished ! ''—unless 
He  could  have  confidently  calculated  on  adequate  residts? 
And  you  know  what  these  are — the  manifestation  of  the 


126  THE  VOICE  OF  GOD'S  ETEENAL  WISDOM. 

Divine  glory  in  liuman  salvation.  Some  of  these  results  He 
is  looking  for  here;  and  He  requires  that  you  should  aim  at 
them,  and  expect  them.  Expect  them — and  it  will  impart  a 
unity,  a  sanctity,  and  a  power  to  all  your  religious  endeavours. 
Expect  Divine  success — and  so  far  from  being  surprised,  as 
many  a  Church  would  be  by  its  coming,  you  will  be  restless 
and  dissatisfied  unless  and  until  it  does  come.  Exj^ect  it — • 
and  you  will  pray  for  it.  The  reason  why  conversions  are 
not  prayed  for,  or,  if  prayed  for,  why  so  many  Christians  are 
content  that  their  prayers  should  not  be  answered  is,  that 
they  do  not  expect  the  blessing;  they  have,  in  a  sense,  out- 
lived the  exj^ectation.  But  expect  it — and  not  only  will  it 
give  a  directness  to  your  appeals,  and  a  holy  energy  to  yom^ 
efforts — not  only  will  it  keep  alive  your  tenderest  sympathies 
for  the  unconverted — it  will  often  take  you  to  the  throne  of 
grace ;  for  you  will  feel  your  entire  dependence  on  the  Spirit 
of  God,  and  there  will  you  wrestle  with  Him  for  the  success 
you  desire.  Expect  it — the  Saviour  will — He  will  continue 
to  come  here,  seeking  fruit — the  precious,  precious  fruit  of 
His  sufferings  and  death.  And  shall  He  be  disappointed? 
Nothing  less  than  souls  converted,  sinners  saved,  will  satisfy 
Him;  nothing  less  than  this  will  satisfy  those  of  His  people 
even  who  know  you,  and  take  an  interest  in  your  welfare — 
and  shall  less  satisfy  you?  But  this  sujDposes  the  activity  of 
all — their  personal  activity;  not  their  wishes  merely,  nor 
even  their  property.  The  same  Being  who  tells  us,  in  one 
part  of  the  text,  that  He  had  taken  prospective  delight  in 
tlie  children  of  men,  so  far  from  confining  Himself  to  an 
inactive  survey,  is  next  heard  inviting  the  world  to  assemble 
around  Him  for  instruction — sending  out  His  messengers, 
and,  with  a  sacred  violence,  compelling  men  to  come  in. 
And  shall  not  His  people  imitate  His  examjDle? 

4th,  Finally — anticijyate  consequences.  Not  only  expect 
the  results  of  which  we  have  spoken,  hut  anticipate  the  conse- 
quences of  those  results.  These  I  would  fain  leave  to  your 
own  private  reflections.    And  could  I  only  insure  that  you 


THE  VOICE  OF  GOD  S  ETERNAL  WISDOM.  127 

would,  on  retiring,  ponder  them  awhile,  and  then  give  utter- 
ance in  prayer  to  the  emotions  they  would  inspire,  I  should 
thank  God  for  the  effect  produced.  I  will  only  remind  you 
that  the  consequences  of  which  I  speak  will  reach  through 
eternity;  that,  as  the  eye  of  Christ  has,  through  all  the  past, 
been  fixed  on  the  present,  so  now  from  the  present,  as  from 
the  summit  of  a  moral  elevation,  it  is  taking  a  survey  of  all 
the  eternal  consequences.  And  does  the  sight  delight  Him  ? 
The  messages  that  will  continue  to  be  here  delivered — the 
prayers  that  will  be  offered — the  liberality  and  zeal  which 
will  still  be  manifested — the  souls  that  will  be  converted — 
the  summing  up  of  the  whole  in  the  last  great  day — and 
then  the  consequences  through  all  the  everlasting  future — He 
foresees  the  whole  ;  and,  as  He  looks  on  it,  is  He  satisfied? 

No!  "The  end  is  not  yet!" — not  even  the  end  of  the 
services  which  are  past.  They  are  to  shed  an  influence  on 
all  the  future ;  they  are  to  mingle  as  a  moral  element  in  all 
your  future  history ;  they  are  to  reproduce  themselves  over 
and  over  again ;  they  will  reappear  in  other  services  of  the 
sanctuary — in  many  a  season  of  reflection — in  many  a  dying 
hour — in  the  fimai  day;  yes,  they  will  reappear  in  heaven  or 
in  hell;  in  the  one,  in  the  hoarse  and  aggravated  accents  of 
self-reproach — in  the  other,  in  the  songs  of  the  harpers,  harp- 
ing with  their  harps.  In  this  sense,  your  services  here  will 
open  an  eternity.  Brethren,  your  sanctuary  opens  out  on 
eternity.  Like  a  house  fronting  the  boundless  sea,  this  house 
stands  fronting  eternity — looks  out  on  the  infinite  future.  Of 
every  seed  which  is  here  sown  the  produce  will  have  to  be 
reaped  in  eternity.  And  on  that  produce  it  is  that  the  eye 
of  Christ  is  at  this  moment  fixed.  Oh,  could  we  mark  His 
looks  as  He  regards  it!  Saviour,  art  thou  satisfied?  Why 
gathers  that  expression  of  ineffable  concern  in  Thy  gracious 
looks?  What  hearest  Thou — what  seest  Thou  in  that  dis- 
tant future?  The  souls  of  some  here — lost?  Lost!  But  is 
their  loss  inevitable?  Canst  Thou  not  dictate  some  message 
which  shall  arrest  them?     Will  prayer  avail?     Will  tears — 


128  THE  VOICE  OF  GOD'S  ETERNAL  WISDOM. 

will  efforts  avail?  And  wliy  does  Thy  countenance  brighten 
again?  Dost  Thou  see  the  brands  plucked  out  of  the  burn- 
ing? And  by  our  instrumentality?  And  art  Thou  satisfied? 
In  Thy  satisfaction  shall  we  find  our  heaven. 

Brethren,  farewell.  Act  on  the  firm  conviction,  that  every 
prayer  you  offer — every  gift  you  i^resent — every  effort  you 
make  for  His  glory,  will  heighten  His  Divine  delight — will 
brighten  those  eternal  consequences  of  which  we  have  spoken 
— will  enhance  your  own  delight  for  ever.  Act  on  the  con- 
viction now;  and  may  God  give  His  blessing.     Amen, 


THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LOED  FEOM  HEAVEN.  129 


SEEMON  VI. 

THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LOKD  FEOM  HEAVEN. 

1  Cor.  XV.  45-47 — "And  so  it  is  -written,  The  first  man  Adam  was  made 
a  living'  soul ;  tlie  last  x4dam  a  life-givinc^  Spirit.  Howbeit  that  was  not 
first  which  is  spiritual,  but  that  which  is  natural ;  and  afterward  that 
which  is  spiritual.  The  first  man  is  of  the  earth,  earthy;  the  second 
man  is  the  Lord  from  heaven." 

Two  men  licave  trod  the  eartli — two  real  historical  men. 
Before  the  first  of  them  died,  his  posterity  had  multiplied  to 
thousands — myriads;  but  what  are  they  all  to  us  compared 
to  that  ''first  man?''  Since  then,  millions  have  succeeded 
in  every  age;  but  what  are  they  all  to  us  compared  to  that 
''second  man  ?"  The  first  man  himself  is  as  nothing  compared 
with  the  second — acquires  all  his  real  importance  from  his 
relation  to  the  second.  I  look  at  the  first,  and  I  see  him 
made  a  living  soul.  I  Icolv  at  the  second,  and  I  behold  Him 
m.aking,  creating,  as  a  life-imparting  Spirit.  I  look  at  the 
first,  and  I  see  everything  around  him  withering,  dying — all 
his  posterity  falling  into  the  dust.  I  look  at  the  second, 
and  behold,  He  is  standing  at  the  great  grave  of  humanity, 
and  the  dead  are  starting  into  life  around  Him.  "  The  first 
man  is  of  the  earth,  earthy;  the  second  man  is  the  Lord  from 
heaven." 


Now,  in  enlarging  on  the  peculiar  view  which  is  here 
presented  of  our  Lord  as  " the  second  man,  from  heaven"  it 
is  proper  to  advert,  first,  to  His  relations  to  the  first  man,  or 

I 


130  THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LORD  FEOM  HEAVEN. 

to  the  necessity  which  arose  for  His  coming.  And  here  I 
need  not  remind  you  at  any  length  of  the  importance  attached 
by  the  Ahnighty  to  the  introduction  upon  the  earth  of  the 
first  man.  Imagine  an  analogous  case ;  imagine  that  one  of 
the  planets  on  which,  in  the  stillness  of  evening,  your  eye  has 
often  rested,  and  which,  for  untold  ages,  has  been  pursuing 
its  silent  course  in  the  heavens,  was  about  to  become,  for  the 
first  time,  the  habitation,  not  of  beings  from  other  worlds, 
but  of  a  new  race  of  intelligent  beings — creatures  of  a  kind 
hitherto  unknown  to  the  universe  of  God ;  that  they  were  to 
go  on  multiplying  for  ages ;  that,  as  their  history  advanced, 
it  would  be  marked  by  unheard-of  events — would  be  the 
means  of  developing  new  principles  of  the  Divine  govern- 
ment, new  aspects  of  the  Divine  character ;  and  that  the  first 
of  the  race  about  to  be  created  would  sustain,  in  some  way,  a 
relation  to  all  that  should  follow,  which  should  shed  a  pecu- 
liar influence  on  the  whole  through  all  duration:  conceive 
of  such  a  case,  and  you  can  easily  imagine  that  it  would  bo 
an  event  calculated  to  draw  to  itself  the  interest  and  to  rivet 
on  it  the  attention  of  the  universe. 

Now,  such  was  actually  the  interest — however  unexciting 
the  subject  may  have  become  to  us  through  familiarity — such 
was  the  interest  which  attached  to  the  introduction  of  the 
first  man  upon  the  earth.  There  never  had  been  a  moment 
in  the  past  eternity  when  his  coming  was  not  present  to  the 
mind  of  God.  His  constitution  was  to  be  a  novelty  in  crea- 
tion, for  it  was  to  combine  in  one  the  laws  of  matter  and  of 
mind — it  was  to  be  a  spirit  incarnate;  and  there  never  Avas 
a  moment  when  that  constitution  was  not  designed  and 
present  to  the  mind  of  God.  •'  In  thy  book  all  his  members 
were  written,  when  as  yet  there  was  none  of  them."''  And  if 
the  outlines  of  man's  physical  structure  were  thus  sketched 
and  laid  down,  how  much  more  may  we  suppose  the  capa- 
cities and  powers  of  the  indwelluig  soul  to  have  been  present 
to  the  creating  ^lind ! 

Hence,  too,  the  earth  had  all  along  been  building  and 


THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LOED  FEOM  HEAVEN.    131 

preparing  by  God,  with  a  view  to  the  coming  of  man.  Man 
was  not  made  for  the  world;  the  world,  from  the  first,  had 
been  made  for  man.  From  the  time  when  the  fomidations 
of  the  earth  were  laid,  the  Great  Builder  had  never  lost 
sight  of  the  designed  constitution  of  the  human  inhabitant. 
Eor  him  the  Creator  had  "  weighed  the  very  mountains  in 
scales,  and  the  hills  in  a  balance.''  It  was  to  be  the  place  for 
the  education  of  his  new  made  mind;  and  hence  all  its  objects 
were  formed,  and  placed,  and  numbered,  to  arrest  his  eye  and 
engage  his  attention.  His  discovery  of  its  natural  laws  was 
to  constitute  much  of  his  science ;  his  application  of  these 
laws  was  to  be  his  art  and  occupation.  It  was  to  be  his 
temple  for  worship.  Wherever  he  looked  he  was  to  find  him- 
self surrounded  by  the  symbols  of  the  Godhead.  Every  object 
on  which  his  eye  could  rest  was  to  be  either  an  altar  of 
memorial  or  an  offering  to  be  laid  on  it.  Nay,  the  earth 
itself,  as  it  went  speeding  through  space,  what  was  it  to  be 
but  an  altar  at  which  he  was  to  be  perpetually  ministering? 
In  2'>T0spect  of  the  event,  one  can  almost  hear  the  sons  of  God, 
as  they  press  towards  Eden,  shouting  for  joy,  for  the  Triune 
God  has  at  length  said,  "  Let  us  make  man  in  our  own  image.'" 
And  when  he  was  made,  one  can  almost  conceive  that  he  sees 
them  joining  the  new  made  man  in  his  first  act  of  homage, 
mingling  their  worship  with  his,  already  aiding  him  as 
"ministering  spirits,"  rejoicing  in  the  anticipation  that 
henceforth  God  will  be  served  on  earth  as  in  heaven. 

But  besides  being  a  school  for  his  education,  and  a  temple 
for  his  worship,  earth  is  to  be  the  scene  of  man's  probation. 
It  could  not  be  otherwise.  By  his  very  constitution  he  is  a 
subject  of  moral  government,  and  therefore  everything  volun- 
tary he  may  do  will  inevitably  be  right  or  wrong.  In  a  sense 
earth  was  planted  over  with  trees  of  the  knowledge  of  good 
and  evil.  "  Thou  shalt,"  or  "  thou  shalt  not,"  was  inscribed 
on  everything.  Man's  happiness  was  made  to  depend  on  his 
obedience.  It  could  not  be  otherwise.  For,  as  a  moral 
being,  he  is  a  law  unto  himself.     His  nature  is  a  system  of 


132         THE  SECOND  ADMl  THE  LOED  FEOM  HEAVEK 

laws;  and  sin  is  the  violation  of  them  all.  So  that,  even  if 
God  were  not  to  interfere,  sin  would,  notwithstanding,  prove 
to  be  destruction.  From  the  moment  of  his  creation,  the  first 
man  enclosed  within  himself,  so  to  speak,  a  whole  system  of 
moral  government — laws,  and  judge,  arid  prison,  and  instru- 
ments of  torture,  if  he  disobeyed ;  rewards,  and  happmess,  and 
conscious  improvement,  if  he  obeyed.  One  of  the  benevolent 
dpsigns  of  the  first  command  was  to  teach  him  this ;  to  make 
him  aware  what  a  nature  he  possessed;  to  impress  him  v/itli 
the  great  truth  that,  in  a  lofty  sense,  he  was  given  into  his 
own  hands;  that  sin  would  be  followed  by  toil,  and  suffering, 
and  death;  that  obedience  would  be  crowned  by  rewards, 
converting  earth  into  heaven.  And  still  more,  of  that  pro- 
bation, if  successful,  his  posterity  are  to  reap  the  advantage. 
He  the  model  of  holy  obedience;  they  co]3ying  his  bright 
example.  He  invested  with  the  lordship  of  the  world;  and 
they  sharing  the  inheritance  with  him.  He  their  head  and 
rcj)resentative  with  God;  and  they  glorifying  God  in  him. 
How  magnificent  the  prospect'  How  glorious  the  j^ossi- 
bility! 

But  what  if  the  new-made  man  should  abuse  his  freedom? 
What  if  the  ]}ossihility  of  his  sinning  should  become  a  fear- 
ful reality  ?  Who  can  foresee  the  tremendous  consequences? 
Brethren,  you  know  the  dreadful  result.  The  hour  of  trial 
came,  and  he  fell.  A  law  was  given  him  ;  and,  oh,  better  had 
a  star  fallen  from  its  sphere,  and  been  falling  still !  he  broke 
away  from  the  sacred  restraints  of  that  law — deranged  the 
harmony  of  his  own  nature — disturbed  the  tranquillity  of  the 
universe — incurred  the  penalty  of  transgression.  Attempt 
not  to  extenuate  his  guilt.  You  admit  that  evil  must  result 
from  the  infraction  of  a  natural  law;  and  is  moral  law  less 
important  ?  You  admit  that  the  least  deviation  of  the  earth 
from  its  orbit  would  be  followed  by  physical  disorder  and 
ruin  to  an  unknoT^ai  extent.  But  here  is  a  being,  into  whose 
hand  the  earth  itself  has  been  given,  outraging  moral  law, 
bringmg  himself  into  actual  collision  with  the  great  Law-giver. 


THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LOED  FEOM  HEAVEN.    133 

What  but  retribution  can  ensue  ?  To  rectify  the  evil  himself, 
is  an  absolute  impossibility.  Even  perfect  obedience  for 
the  future,  were  that  within  his  power,  would  not  avail ;  for 
that  would  have  been  due  independently  of  his  sin.  And 
what  if  the  evil  should  go  on  diffusing  itself  through  his 
nature  till  it  has  taken  possession  of  the  whole,  and  has  re- 
duced him  to  "  a  body  of  sin  and  death''?  And  what  if  the 
same  polluting  leaven  should  leaven  the  whole  mass  of 
humanity,  which  is  to  descend  from  him  ?  What  if  its  hand 
should  come  daily  to  pluck  forbidden  fruit,  and  its  tongue  to 
utter  deceit,  and  its  feet  be  swift  to  shed  blood,  and  all  its 
members  become  instruments  of  unrighteousness  unto  sin? 
What  if  it  should  complete  its  degradation  and  its  guilt  by 
calling  the  worship  of  its  own  vices,  religion — the  thraldom  of 
Satan,  liberty?  All  this,  remember,  was  involved  in  the  ten- 
dency of  the  first  sin,  and  was  all  present  to  the  mind  of 
God.  What!  and  shall  man  succeed  in  unmaking  himself? 
Shall  it  never  be  known  how  holy  and  excellent  he  could 
have  become  ?  Shall  man  never  see  his  own  nature  in  per- 
fection ;  never  see  the  Divine  as  it  was  meant  to  shine  forth 
in  the  human .?  Shall  God  never  again  behold  His  own 
image  in  man  ;  never  be  honoured  in  His  human  workman- 
ship? One  thing  is  certain,  that  if  ever  the  ideal  of 
humanity  is  to  be  realized,  there  must  be  a  second  man. 
One  thing  is  clear,  that  the  first  man  can  never  be  a  fair  ex- 
emplar to  his  posterity  of  v/hat  humanity  should  be;  and  that 
if  it  be  important  for  them  to  have  before  their  eyes  a  perfect 
model,  there  must  be  a  second  man.  The  first  man  has  lost 
the  lordship  of  the  world ;  and  if  it  ever  be  recovered  for  his 
descendants,  it  can  only  be  by  a  second  man.  By  "  one  man 
sin  hath  entered  into  the  world,  and  death  by  sin ;  and  so 
death  will  pass  upon  all  men,  for  that  all  will  sin  f  and  if 
ever  that  sin  be  expiated,  and  that  death  abolished,  and 
man  is  to  have  an  adequate  representative  and  head,  it  can 
only  be  by  the  coming  of  a  second  man  !  And  from  the 
hour  in  which  His  coming  was  first  promised,  everything 


]oi  THE  SECOND  ADA^I  THE  LOED  FEOM  HEAVEN. 

was  kept  in  suspense,  and  waited  for  liim,  or  proclaimed  aloud 
the  necessity  of  His  advent. 

11. 

Let  us  observe,  secondly,  liow  remarkably  everything  sup- 
posed His  coming,  or  prepared  for  it.  We  have  seen  that, 
before  the  creation  of  the  first  man,  everything  looked  for- 
wards to  Him.  All  nature  was  preconfigured  to  Him.  All 
its  laws  were  mute  predictions  of  what  He  would  be,  physi- 
cally and  mentally,  at  least,  if  not  morally.  A  being  of  lofty 
intelligence  could  have  foretold  much  respecting  man's  con- 
stitution, from  the  very  structure  of  the  earth  which  was  pre- 
paring for  him.  It  was  a  kind  of  cypher  in  the  handwriting 
of  God,  of  which  the  human  being  was  to  be  the  key  and 
interpreter.  But  from  the  moment  in  which  man  fell  from 
his  high  estate,  everything  began  to  presignify  the  coming 
of  the  second  man.  Turning  from  the  first  man,  everything 
rose  in  importance  and  acquired  a  new  value,  by  pointing  to 
the  second.  From  that  hour,  the  first  man  himself  fell  into 
the  processional  train  of  objects  and  events  which  preceded 
and  heralded  the  second ;  he  became,  says  the  Apostle,  "  the 
figure  of  Him  that  tvas  to  come."  The  ijvomise  that  the 
second  head  of  the  human  race  should,  in  some  peculiar 
sense,  be  luoman-'born — what  did  it  intimate  but  that  were 
it  not  for  his  destined  birth,  no  human  beino's  should  be  ever 
born  ?  that  but  for  the  fact  that  "  a  body  was  to  be  23repared 
for  him/'  the  multiplication  of  the  species  was  already  at  an 
end?  The  promise  of  His  coming  decided  henceforth  the 
cliaracter  and  destiny  of  man  ;  divided  the  race  into  two 
classes — those  who  believed  His  coming,  and  those  who  be- 
lieved it  not.  The  law  of  His  coming  took  precedence  of 
every  other  ;  held  on  its  sovereign  way  through  the  Semitic 
division  of  the  human  race,  the  Abrahamic  branch  of  that 
division,  the  tribe  of  Judah  in  that  branch,  the  family  of 
David  in  that  tribe.  It  was  when  the  great  fact  was  dis- 
closed to  David,  of  His  being  a  progenitor  of  the  second 


THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LORD  FROM  HEAVEN.  185 

Adam — when  the  grand  truth  flashed  full  on  his  astonished 
mind — that  he  uttered  that  wondering  exclamation  (the  force 
of  which  our  translation  destroys),  "What  am  I,  0  Lord 
Jehovah,  and  what  my  house,  that  thou  hast  brought  me  to 
this  exaltation.  .  .  .  This  is  the  law  of  the  Adam,  0  Lord 
Jehovah  V  Or,  as  it  is  given  in  the  first  book  of  the  Cliro- 
nicles,  "  Thou  has  regarded  me  according  to  the  order  of  the 
Adam  from  above,  0  Jehovah  God  I"  To  this  adorino-  Ian- 
giiage  it  is  that  the  Apostle  alludes  in  our  text.  For,  says 
another  of  the  Aj^ostles,  "  David,  being  a  prophet,  knew  that 
God  had  sworn  with  an  oath  to  him,  that  of  the  fruit  of  his 
loins  He  would  raise  up  the  Messiah  to  sit  upon  his  throne.'' 
The  oath  of  His  coming  was  the  only  oath  which  proceeded 
directly  from  the  mouth  of  God ;  nothing  else  was  of  sufficient 
importance  to  deserve  the  solemnity;  and  the  fulfilment  of  this 
oath  included  the  fulfilment  of  every  other  engagement,  and 
secured  it.  The  prediction  of  His  coming  was  the  great  text 
of  all  propthecy.  It  was  the  subject  which  first  opened  the  lips 
of  prophecy.  It  was  placed  in  the  front,  or  laid  at  the  basis, 
both  of  the  patriarchal  and  the  Jewish  dispensations.  The 
theocracy  existed  for  it.  Its  utterance  mingled  with  the 
solemnities  of  death-bed  benedictions.  The  darkness  of 
Sinai  was  irradiated  by  it.  The  hallowed  grandeur  of  the 
first  temple  invested  it.  Its  fulfilment  was  to  impart  a  sur- 
passing glory  to  the  second  temj)le.  Were  the  reigns  of 
David  and  Solomon  of  unusual  splendour  ?  that  splendour 
was  wreathed  by  the  hand  of  prophecy  into  a  halo  for  the 
diadem  of  Messiah.  Is  one  prophet  called  to  survey  a  wide 
field  of  broken  thrones  and  of  powers  overturned  ?  it  is  that 
he  may  direct  attention  to  "  the  desire  of  all  nations,"  emerg- 
ing amidst  the  ruins.  Does  another  behold,  in  vision,  the 
great  monarchies  of  the  earth  succeeding  each  other  ?  it  is 
that  he  may  fix  all  eyes  on  a  King  and  a  kingdom  destined 
to  absorb  all  power  and  glory — one  "  like  the  Son  of  man  " 
coming  and  receiving  universal  and  lasting  dominion.  What- 
ever the  national    calamity  might  be,  a  reference  to  His 


136  THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LORD  FEOM  HEAVEN. 

coming  brouglit  every  harp  from  the  willow,  and  converted  a 
national  lament  into  a  national  hosanna.  Whatever  the  im- 
mediate subject  of  a  prophecy  might  be,  no  transition,  how- 
ever sudden,  was  deemed  abrupt  or  uninteUigible  which 
introduced  him.  Like  the  Alps  or  the  Andes,  seen  from 
every  part  of  a  vast  continent,  this  subject  towered  above 
every  other,  and  was  seen  from  every  part  of  the  wide  field 
of  prophetic  vision.  "  To  Him  gave  all  the  prophets  witness."'' 
From  the  shadowy  outline  sketched  of  Him  in  the  first  pro- 
mise, the  hand  of  j^rophecy  had  never  ceased  adding  feature 
after  feature,  till  now  the  grand  portraiture  was  comj^lete — 
the  likeness  of  the  Son  of  man — the  second  man.  The  con- 
summation of  all  the  great  designs  and  j)romises  of  God  was 
referred  to  the  time  of  His  coming ;  and  his  familiar  designa- 
tion came  to  be,  "  the  Comer,''  "  Him  that  is  to  come,''  as 
if  the  coming  of  everything  else — the  coming  of  futurity 
itself — depended  on  His  coming. 

Still  more;  from  the  history  and  condition  of  the  luorld, 
the  constitution  and  offices  of  "  the  second  man  "  might  have 
^)een  inferred.  Before  the  coming  of  the  first  man,  every- 
thing looked  forwards  to  him.  From  the  time  of  the  Fall 
everything  symbolized  and  supposed  the  coming  of  the 
second  man.  Everything  assumed  a  position  pointing,  pre- 
confiofured  to  him.  The  first  sinner  himself — I  hear  him 
cdnvicted  and  denounced;  why  is  he  not  destroyed?  why 
kept  in  being?  Another  Adam  is  coming  to  expiate  his 
guilt,  and  remedy  the  evil.  His  sinful  posterity — I  see  them 
rapidly  increase  in  numbers,  but  more  rapidly  in  guilt ;  why, 
when  punishment  overtakes  them,  is  it  always  arrested  in  its 
course,  always  partial  in  its  infliction  ?  A  second  man  is  on 
the  way  to  endure  and  to  exhaust  it  for  them.  Sinai  is 
kindled  and  the  law  proclaimed ;  but  why  this,  when  man 
has  made  himself  notorious  chiefly  as  its  transgressor? 
Another  is  expected  to  fulfil  it.  I  pass  into  the  land  of 
Canaan,  and  find  it  cleared  of  its  ancient  heathenism,  and 
pUnted  over  with  types  and  symbols ;  who  is  to  be  the  anti- 


THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LORD  FEOM  HEAVEN.    137 

type  of  all  these  figures,  the  substance  of  all  these  shadows  ? 
I  pass  into  the  temple,  but  everything  I  see  is  pointing  to  the 
future;  here  is  an  altar,  but  where  is  the  sacrifice?  for  "the 
blood  of  bulls  and  of  goats  cannot  take  away  sin ;'"'  here  is  a 
sanctuary,  but  the  entrance  is  closed,  the  veil  is  down;  and 
worshijDpers,  but  they  are  all  in  the  posture  of  unsatisfied  ex- 
pectation. And  here,  on  Zion,  is  an  empty  throne.  Every- 
thing appears  unfinished  and  waiting.  Everything  intimates 
that  if  those  sacrifices  are  to  end  in  a  real  atonement ;  if  that 
veil  is  to  be  rent;  those  worshippers  to  be  satisfied;  that 
throne  to  have  a  rightfid  occupant,  there  must  be  a  second 
man,  from  heaven;  and  hence  religion  itself  consisted  in 
hopmg  for  Him.  Every  office,  whether  of  prophet,  priest,  or 
king,  owed  its  existence  and  importance  to  Him;  was  hollow, 
and  empty,  and  destitute  of  value,  except  in  proportion  as  it 
referred  to  Him.  Every  king  was  a  usurper,  a  rebel,  but  as 
he  held  authority  for  Him ;  every  priest  an  idolater,  but  as  his 
office  typified  Him;  every  prophet  an  impostor,  but  as  he 
predicted  Him. 

The  moral  condition  of  the  world  involuntarily  cried  out 
for  Him.  Civilization,  indeed,  might  go  on  assuming  new 
forms,  and  developing  new  powers,  but  all  tended  to  plunge 
man  deeper  in  evil,  except  as  it  referred  to  His  coming  and 
kingdom.  Apart  from  Him,  all  its  pretended  pleasures  were 
but  mitigations  and.  concealments  of  its  misery  ;  all  its  trea- 
sures, but  a  thin  veil  cast  over  its  real  poverty ;  all  its  reli- 
gious inventions,  but  substitutes  for  Him,  or  confessions  of 
its  ignorance  respecting  Him ;  all  its  sufferings,  but  instal- 
ments of  its  future  doom,  if  not  rescued  by  Him. 

He  himself  is  represented  as  prophetically  anticipating 
the  duties  and  offices  which  the  wants  of  the  world  would 
require  from  Him.  Thus,  as  sin  had  brought  the  world  to 
an  hour,  in  which  the  only  alternative  to  its  destruction  was 
a  sacrifice  which  He  alone  could  render,  "  Lo,  I  come,''  said 
He,  "a  body  hast  thou* pre j)ared  me  ;  lo,  I  come  to  give  it 
as  a  sacrifice,  and  to  do  thy  will,  0  my  God ! "    Had  sin  so 


138  THE  SECOND  AD  AIM  THE  LOED  FEOM  HEAVEN. 

depraved  the  race,  that  even  that  sacrifice  by  itself  would  be 
unavailmg  ?  "I  will  pour  out  my  Spirit/'  saith  He,  "  I  will 
give  them  new  hearts  and  right  spirits."  Sin  was  rapidly 
converting  the  earth  into  a  vast  sepulchre  ;  "but  I  will 
ransom  them  from  the  grave/'  said  He  ;  "0  death,  I  will  be 
thy  i^lagues  ;  0  grave,  I  will  be  thy  destruction  ! "  And  all 
thino-s  waited,  and  travailed  in  birth  for  His  comino;. 

III. 

Then,  thirdly,  let  us  mark  the  conditions  which  devolved 
on  Him,  and  which  He  fulfilled  as  the  second  man,  when 
He  did  come.  Great — as  we  have  seen — great  were  the 
preparations  made  for  the  coming  of  the  first  man  ;  and  vast 
was  the  importance  attached  to  it  by  God.  But  far  loftier 
is  the  interest  which  invests  the  coming  of  the  second.  The 
world  has  been  sj)ared  on  the  ground  of  it.  Judea  has  been 
set  apart  as  the  theatre  of  the  great  event.  The  angels  of 
God  hold  themselves  in  readiness  to  behold  it.  Unnumbered 
eyes  are  watching  for  His  coming ;  unnumbered  interests 
depending  on  it. 

1.  And  "when  the  fulness  of  time  was  come,  God  sent 
forth  his  Son,  made  of  a  woman/'  This  was  the  first  con- 
dition fulfilled.  He  assumed  the  very  nature  of  the  first 
man — of  the  fallen  head  of  the  human  race.  Though  "  He 
was  in  the  form  of  God,  and  thought  it  not  robbery  to  be 
equal  vfith  God,  he  was  yet  found  in  fashion  as  a  man." 
"He  came  in  the  flesh."  "The  Word  was  made  flesh,  and 
dwelt  amongst  us."  By  an  amazing  act  of  self-reduction, 
he  became  the  Son  of  man — the  second  man. 

2.  But  if  He  assume  the  nature  of  man,  it  devolves  on  Him 
to  conform  to  all  the  laws,  physical  and  moral,  whicli  are 
binding  on  man.  He  fulfilled  this  condition.  He  asked  for 
no  new  laws,  no  exemjotion  from,  no  relaxation  of  existing 
laws.  He  deprecated  the  idea  that  he  had  "  come  to  destroy 
the  law;"  declared  that  he  had  come  to  fulfil  it;  put  a 
spiritual  interpretation  on  it ;  enlarged  its  jurisdiction  ;  set 


THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LORD  FEOM  HEAVEN.  139 

Himself  apart  to  magnify  it ;  placed  all  His  powers  at  its 
disposal.  Think,  what  He  found  mankind  generally  doino- 
with  those  powers,  and  how  He  shewed  what  might  be  done 
with  them  ;  what  compassion  might  beam  from  those  eyes, 
what  grace  might  flow  from  those  lips,  what  blessings  might 
fall  from  those  hands  ;  and  how  He  thus  convicted  the  first 
man,  and  all  his  sinful  posterity,  and  vindicated  the  Maker  of 
the  human  frame  ! 

3.  But  not  only  must  He  obey  ;  His  obedience  must  be  a 
trial,  a  probation.  He  fulfilled  this  condition.  "  He  suffered 
being  tempted.''  "Though  he  were  a  Son,  yet  learned  he 
obedience  by  the  things  which  he  suffered."  But  did  not 
His  Divinity  protect  His  humanity  ? — j)i'<^^^ct  it  in  the  sense 
of  making  it  j^hysically  and  absolutely  impossible  that  He 
should  fall  into  sin?  Unquestionably  not.  To  say  that 
His  human  nature  was  originally  sinless,  negatively  holy,  is 
only  saying  that,  in  this  respect,  He  was  placed  on  a  level 
with  the  first  man.  But,  as  to  its  union  with  the  Divine 
nature,  that  was  of  a  kind  to  leave  it  human  still — its  free 
agency  unimpaired,  all  its  original  properties  untouched,  its 
conditions  entire.  That  this  is  a  great  mystery,  is  admitted. 
But  the  mystery  begins  in  your  own  nature,  in  that  wonder- 
ful union  of  body  with  sjoirit,  which  leaves  the  material  j^art 
under  all  the  laws  of  matter,  and  yet  brings  it  under  ad- 
ditional spiritual'  laws.  Till  you  can  clearly  exjolain  this 
enigma  of  your  own  nature,  start  not  at  the  greater  mystery 
of  His  person.  Expect,  rather,  that  in  Him  the  mystery 
would  be  increased,  just  in  i^roportion  to  the  superior  dignity 
of  His  relations,  and  the  greatness  of  His  office. 

That  His  humanity  ivas  left  open  to  trial  and  assault,  is 
a  truth,  not  of  reason,  nor  even  of  revelation  merely ;  it  is  a 
matter  of  fact — a  case  of  evidence.  To  question  it,  is  to 
question  whether  He  was  left  cajoable  of  suffering  or  not — 
He,  "the  man  of  sorrows,  and  familiar  with  grief  From 
the  hour  of  His  entrance  on  His  public  work.  He  was  in  con- 
stant collision  with  the  great  enemy.      Temptation,  so  far 


140  THE  SECOND  AD  AIM  THE  LOED  FEOM  HEAVEN. 

from  retiring  from  His  path,  crowded  into  it  all  its  snares 
and  toils.  His  coming  aj^pears  to  have  awakened  all  the 
original  antipathy  of  evil  against  good.  His  whole  life  Avas 
a  continued  conflict,  hourly  increasing  in  ardour  and  danger, 
till  it  reached  the  crisis  of  Calvary.  But  "  though  he  was 
temjDted  in  all  points  like  as  we  are,  and  inconceivably  more, 
yet  without  sin '' — "  the  prince  of  this  world,  the  powers  of 
darkness  came,  and  had  nothing  in  him.''  One  moment 
there  was,  indeed,  and  only  one,  when  His  humanity  shud- 
dered, and  seemed  about  to  pause.  One  moment  in  which 
a  deejD,  dark  shadow  passed  over  His  soul,  and  seemed  about 
to  settle — but  only  seemed.  It  was  a  self-struggle  ;  a  struggle 
which  shewed  the  agony  of  the  trial,  and  enhanced  the  value 
of  His  self-sacrifice. 

4.  But  another  condition  remains  :  if  the  sinful  posterity 
of  the  first  man  have  been  spared  on  account  of  the  second. 
He  must  render  compensation  to  the  violated  law  in  His  own 
person,  and  as  their  substitute.  And  this  He  did,  intelli- 
gently, voluntarily,  and  with  a  devotedness  the  most  entu'e. 
It  was  the  purpose  which  had  always  filled  His  heart.  Never, 
for  a  moment,  did  He  withdraw  His  eye  from  the  place  of 
sacrifice  ;  never  diverged  a  single  step  from  the  path  which 
led  to  it.  So  fully  was  He  possessed  with  the  vastness  of 
His  sacrificial  design,  that  He  valued  moments,  faculties,  life 
itself,  only  as  the  means  of  working  it  out.  He  set  himself 
apart  to  it.  "  I  am  come,''  said  he,  as  He  cast  an  eye  over 
the  vast  region  of  spiritual  death — "  I  am  come  that  they 
might  have  life."  He  found  Himself  surrounded  by  a  world  of 
imprisoned  beings,  chamed  and  laden  powers,  wrestling  with 
a  bondage  which  they  themselves  had  imposed,  yearning 
after  a  freedom  they  could  not  achieve.  "  The  Son  of  man," 
said  He,  "  hath  come  to  give  his  life  a  ransom  for  many." 
Looking  back  to  the  dreary  hour  when  sin  entered  into  the 
world,  He  saw  that  "  death  had  reigned  from  Adam  " — had 
led  down  generation  after  generation  to  the  dust.  "  But  the 
hour  is  comhig,"  said  He,  with  holy  impatience ;  "  the  hour 


THE  SECOND  ADA1\I  THE  LOED  FEOM  HEAVEN.  141 

is  coming,  when  all  that  are  in  their  graves  shall  come  forth/' 
— "  they  shall  hear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  man,  and  shall 
come  forth/'  And  as  He  thought  of  the  outraged  law  He 
was  to  vindicate ;  and  as  the  groans  of  humanity  reached  His 
ear,  and  the  glory  which  would  accrue  to  God  rose  on  His 
view,  He  advanced  yet  nearer  to  the  altar  of  sacrifice.  And 
as  the  hour  of  atonement  approached,  the  Great  Victim  con- 
secrates himself  anew,  and  exclaims,  "I  have  a  baptism  to 
be  baptized  with — a  baj^tism  of  blood — and  how  am  I  strait- 
ened till  it  be  accomplished?"  And  as  He  at  length  stands 
in  the  awful  shadow  of  the  cross,  and  surveys  afresh  the 
magnitude  of  His  undertaking,  ''  Now,''  saith  He,  "  is  my 
soul  troubled  ;  and  what  shall  I  say  ?  Father,  save  me  from 
this  hour?  But  for  this  cause  came  I  unto  this  hour."  But 
see,  the  worst  is  not  yet.  The  dregged  and  bitter  cup  is 
put  into  His  hand.  "My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou 
forsaken  me  ! "  That  is  the  very  sting  of  the  penalty  He 
has  come  to  exhaust.  Can  He  endure  it  ?  But  while  we 
ask,  He  is  heard  uttering,  "  It  is  finished,"  and  surrenders 
His  Hfe. 

Brethren,  in  that  event  an  eternal  purpose  was  fulfilled, 
and  the  whole  of  God's  preceptive  law  was  vindicated,  satis- 
fied, enthroned  in  the  eyes  of  the  universe.  Considering  the 
dignity  of  the  Being  who  suffered,  had  He  only  signified 
His  wilKngness  to  atone — yes,  had  He  never  actually  come 
into  our  world — had  He  but  verbally  signified  His  readiness 
to  come,  should  His  coming  be  necessary — even  that  would 
have  reflected  greater  honour  on  the  law,  v/hich  He  was 
thus  ready  to  vindicate,  than  it  could  ever  receive  by  all 
human,  all  angelic  obedience.  But  that  He  should  literally 
have  done  this — that  He,  the  second  person  in  the  Unity  of 
the  Godhead,  should  in  any  sense  have  become  the  second 
man,  the  new  head  of  the  human  race — that  He,  the  Creator 
of  holy  man,  should  in  any  sense  become  the  substitute  of 
sinful  man — that  He,  the  Invisible,  should  have  assumed  a 
material  form,  taking  up  the  very  dust  we  trod  on  into  His 


142  THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LORD  FEOM  HEAVEN. 

mysterious  person — that  He,  the  Lawgiver,  should  be  seen 
by  the  universe  in  a  station  of  obedience,  subjecting  Himself 
to  His  o^vn  laws,  and  doing  this  for  the  express  purpose  of 
dying — dying  as  an  expiation  for  human  guilt — dying  that 
justice  might  have  a  compensation  to  accept,  and  that  mercy 
might  have  forgiveness  to  bestow — these  are  wonders  resolv- 
able only  into  the  depths  of  His  infinite  compassion  for  us ; 
this  is  a  transaction  which  has  left  no  part  of  the  universe  in 
the  same  condition  as  it  was  before  ;  and  yet  this,  all  this,  is 
involved  in  the  history  of  the  second  man. 

IV. 

And  this  brings  us,  fourthly,  to  the  consideration  of  the 
right  which  the  Saviour  thus  acquired.  The  voluntary 
humiliation  of  the  Son  of  God,  I  have  said,  left  no  part  of 
the  universe  in  the  same  condition  in  which  it  was  before. 
It  changed  the  moral  relations  of  the  v/nole.  All  the  myriads 
who  had  lived  and  died  in  self-willed  disobedience,  it  con- 
victed them  of  the  deepest  guilt,  and  ratified  their  condem- 
nation. All  Avho  had  obeyed  the  will  of  God,  and  had 
suffered  cruel  mocking  and  scourging  for  obeying  it,  were 
now  justified  in  what  they  had  done  ;  for  here  God  himself 
had  been  manifest  in  the  flesh  expressly  to  do  the  same. 
The  law  itself  which  expresses  that  will — the  relation  of  that 
was  altered  ;  for  it  was  taken  out  of  the  dust  in  which  it  had 
been  trampled,  and  was  placed  on  a  throne.  It  received 
more  than  satisfaction — more  than  atonement;  in  the 
obedience  of  Christ  it  is  magnified,  entlironed  for  eternity. 
In  the  history  and  person  of  Christ,  it  is  crowned  for  ever. 
On  this  account,  the  relation  of  the  Father  himself,  as  the 
Administrator  of  the  Law,  is  changed  ;  He  can  now  remit 
its  penalty  without  relaxing  its  obligations  ;  He  can  leave  its 
honour  in  the  hands  of  Christ.  He  can  say  to  the  penitent 
sinner,  "  You  are  free — for  Christ's  sake,  you  are  free ;  go 
and  sin  no  more.''  And  thus  "  He  can  be  just  while  justi- 
fying the   ungodly."       The  relation   of  Christ  himself  is 


THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LOED  FEOM  HEAVEN.  143 

changed;  "Wherefore  God  also  hath  highly  exalted  Him, 
and  hath  given  to  Him  a  name  which  is  above  every  name  ; 
constituted  Him  the  head  of  a  new  economy  ;  inv(?sted  Him 
with  the  recovered  lordship  of  the  world  ,  given  Him  a  right 
to  the  homage  of  every  knee,  and  the  obedience  of  every 
heai^t ;  and  given  to  Him  the  agency  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to 
enforce  that  right,  and  to  bring  back  the  world  to  God/' 

Brethren,  we  have  here  found  the  right  key  to  the  creation 
of  the  universe.  It  is  mediatorial — from  first  to  last  it  is 
mediatorial.  "  All  things  were  created  ly  Him,  and  for 
Him/'  The  mediatorial  office  of  Christ  is  not  to  be  regarded 
as  an  afterthought— a  supplementary  appointment,  owing  to 
the  unexpected  failure  of  a  previous  design.  It  was  the 
primary  step  towards  the  creation  of  the  universe.  Nor  was 
the  fall  of  the  first  man  in  any  sense  necessitated  by  this 
primary  arrangement.  On  the  contrary,  it  implies  that,  the 
evil  having  been  infallibly  foreseen,  the  entire  plan  of  the 
Divine  procedure  was  laid  with  a  view  to  an  adequate  remedy. 
The  sm  of  the  first  Adam  presupposed  the  saving  power  of 
the  second.  The  loss  of  the  headship  of  the  human  race  by 
the  first  man  presupposed  its  recovery  by  the  second.  And 
never  does  any  part  of  creation  answer  its  highest  end 
until  it  falls  into  its  place  around  the  throne  of  Christ. 
Numerous  other  ends  it  may  answer ;  many  of  them  im- 
portant ;  all  of  them,  it  may  be,  allowable  ;  but  failing  of 
homage  to  Him,  it  fails  of  the  chief  end  for  which  it  was 
brought  into  existence.  Not  till  the  earth  echoed  the  first 
promise— not  till  it  became  the  theatre  for  unfolding  the 
scheme  of  mercy  which  that  promise  enclosed — did  it  attain 
the  grand  office  of  its  creation.  Not  till  the  objects  and 
elements  of  nature  became  the  recognised  images  and 
emblems  of  that  great  scheme,  did  the  true  reason  of  their 
existence  come  to  light.  The  offices  of  prophet,  priest,  and 
king,  found  not  their  true  meaning  till  they  became  the 
known  emblems  of  the  mediatorial  offices  of  Christ.  Till 
Christ  assumed  our  nature,  the  great  reason  for  the  existence 


iA4i  THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LOED  FEOM  HEAVEK 

of  humanity  itself  remained  undeveloped.  Till  lie  took  up 
our  nature  and  lived  as  man,  no  man  liad  lived — that  is  to 
say,  the  Divine  idea  of  what  man  should  be  had  never  been 
realized — and,  till  He  died,  the  temple  of  the  universe  had 
been  destitute,  except  in  the  Divine  intention,  of  altar,  sacri- 
fice, and  priest.  "  Wherefore  God  also  hath  highly  exalted 
Him ;"  views  everything  in  relation  to  Him ;  and  hath  in- 
vested Him  with  all  power  in  heaven  and  in  earth.  All 
worship  is  to  be  offered  in  His  name,  and  is  accepted  for  His 
sake.  All  preaching  is  to  take  Him  for  its  theme.  Every- 
thing praiseworthy  in  conduct  is  an  imitation  of  Him.  All 
excellence  of  character  is  resemblance  to  Him.  All  progress 
in  excellence  is  only  an  approach  to  the  measure  of  the 
stature  of  His  fulness.  "  All  things  are  yours,'"'  saith  the 
apostle ;  but  it  is  only  on  the  condition  that  "  you  are  His.'" 
All  things  rise  in  importance,  in  proportion  as  they  are  made 
available  for  Him.  His  followers  live  only  as  He  lives  in 
them  ;  and  live  to  purpose  only  as  they  are  the  means  of 
diffusing  His  influence  and  enlarging  His  kingdom.  Time 
itself  is  to  be  measured  by  the  fulfilment  of  His  plans ;  for 
He  must  reign  till  He  hath  put  all  enemies  under  His  feet — 
till  the  last  enemy,  death,  is  abolished — and  then  cometh  the 
end. 

Brethren,  the  future  is  stored  with  events.  But  could  we 
see  them  all  ranged  in  the  order  of  their  importance,  one 
event  there  is  which  would  be  seen  towering  above,  and 
eclipsing  every  other — the  second  coming  of  the  Lord  from 
heaven.  We  have  seen  that,  prior  to  the  creation  of  the  first 
man,  everything  was  made  with  a  reference  to  His  appear- 
ance. And  we  have  seen,  that  from  the  time  of  his  fall, 
everything  pointed  to  the  advent  of  the  second  man.  All 
things  said,  in  effect,  "  We  are  waiting  for  ^im.''  But  now, 
from  the  time  "the  heavens  received  Him  out  of  our  sight," 
the  face  of  everything  significant  is  turned  in  the  direction 
of  His  second  coming.  Every  message  of  mercy  delivered 
in  His  name  takes  it  for  granted  that  He  is  coming  to  ascer- 


THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LORD  FllOM  HEAVEN.  14;5 

tain  its  results.  Every  instance  wliicli  commemorates  His 
death,  is  to  shew  it  forth  till  He  come — is  an  act  of  faith 
which  sj^ans  the  interval  from  His  first  to  His  second  comino*. 
Every  pang  of  remorse,  every  act  of  self-judgment,  is  a  fore- 
stalment  of  the  general  judgment.  The  continued  existence 
of  laws  and  governments  supj^oses  the  existence  of  His 
government,  and  the  appointment  of  a  day  in  which  He  will 
take  cognizance  of  the  whole.  All  His  people  are  described 
as  looking  for  Him  ;  this  is  one  of  their  characteristics — 
"  looking  for  that  blessed  hope,  and  the  glorious  appearing 
of  the  great  God  our  Saviour.''  "  They  are  waiting  for  the 
adoption,  to  wit,  the  redemption  of  the  body.''  He  himself 
has  kindled  the  hope.  Eor  when  here  on  earth  He  declared, 
"  This  is  the  Father's  will  who  hath  sent  me,  that  of  all  which 
he  hath  given  me  I  should  lose  nothing,  but  should  raise  it 
up  again  at  the  last  day."  And  again  He  repeated,  as  if 
foretasting  the  Godlike  pleasure  of  the  act,  "  I  luill  raise  him 
up  at  the  last  da.y."  Every  new-made  grave,  therefore,  takes 
from  Him  an  additional  pledge  that  He  will  come  again. 
Every  sigh  which  the  Christian  utters  on  account  of  sin — 
every  tear  which  sorrow  occasions  him — every  unsatisfied 
aspiration  after  excellence — every  unfinished  plan  of  useful- 
ness— all  that  sense  of  incompleteness  which  pervades  His 
people,  supposes  the  coming  of  the  great  Consummator. 
"Eor  we  know  that  the  whole  creation  groaneth  and  tra- 
vaileth  in  pain  together  until  now" — waiting  for  the  last 
redemption  act — the  resurrection  of  the  body.  And  He  him- 
self is  waiting  to  perform  it.  "  For  this  man,"  saith  the 
apostle,  "after  He  had  offered  one  sacrifice  for  sins,  for 
ever  sat  clown  on  the  right  hand  of  God  ;  from  henceforth 
expecting" — looking  out  with  the  calmness  of  certainty,  but 
with  the  earnestness  of  expectation — "  till  His  enemies  be 
made  His  footstool,"  and  till  His  friends  shall  share  His 
exaltation. 

Eventful  was  the  hour  which  saw  man  formed  from  the 
dust — the  hour  in  which  the  earth  first  became  the  scene 


146  THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LOKD  FEOM  HEAYEN. 

of  moral  government.  Still  more  momentous  was  tlie  hour 
when,  after  ages  of  accumulating  guilt  and  of  Divine  prepara- 
tion, the  earth  became  an  altar  for  the  sacrifice  of  the  great 
Victim — the  hour  to  whose  coming  all  laws  had  been  looking 
for  their  vindication — all  the  interests  of  humanity  for  their 
recovery — and,  when  lifting  up  His  eyes  to  heaven  He  could 
say,  "Father,  the  hour  is  come/'  But  more  stupendous  still 
is  the  hour  which  yet  impends— ^the  hour  in  which  "  He  shall 
come  again  the  second  time/'  "  Far  off  His  coming"  shines. 
But  distant  as  that  scene  may  be  to  our  apprehension,  all  the 
affairs  of  time  look  for  it — all  the  events  of  Providence  pre- 
pare for  it.  The  wide  interval  will  dwindle  to  centuries,  and 
those  centuries  to  tens,  and  those  years  to  months,  and  those 
months  to  days,  and  those  days  to  hours,  till  again  He  will 
say,  but  in  other  tones,  "  Father,  the  hour  is  come  \"  And, 
"  He  shall  come  to  be  glorified  in  His  saints,  and  to  be  ad- 
mired in  all  them  that  believe.'"  And  they  shall  come  forth 
from  their  graves  to  meet  Him.  And,  "  He  shall  change 
their  bodies,  fashionino-  them  like  unto  His  own  oiorious 
body" — His  perfect  humanity  the  glorious  prototyj)e  of  theirs 
— "  according  to  the  working  whereby  He  is  able  to  subdue 
all  things  unto  Himself" 

1.  Here,  then,  we  see,  first,  why  Christ  is  the  theme  of 
the  Gospel  ministry.  We  have  seen  that  the  former  dispen- 
sation existed  expressly  to  prepare  the  way  for  Him.  God 
himself  was  the  preacher  then  ;  for  every  part  of  the  economy 
was  arranged  by  His  dictation ;  and  yet  the  voice  of  the 
whole  was  made  to  tell  of  the  character  and  coming  of  Christ. 
And  has  the  subject  lost  in  interest  or  importance  now 
that  He  has  come?  Every  object  then  was  to  be  sprinkled 
with  blood,  even  the  book  of  the  covenant,  the  Bible ;  and 
shall  the  hloocl  of  the  covenant  itself,  the  true  sacrificial  blood, 
now  that  it  is  shed,  be  less  extensively  applied  ?  Shall  not 
every  discourse  derived  from  the  Bible  be  consecrated  by  it  ? 
God  himself  "  hath  set  him  forth  as  the  propitiation  for  sin 
through  faith  in  his  blood" — hath  set  Him  forth,  placed  Him 


THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LOED  FEOM  HEAVEN.  1  47 

in  the  front  of  His  throne,  so  that  no  intercourse  can  take 
place  between  God  and  man  but  through  Him.  And  is  it 
for  the  Christian  j^reacher  to  depose  Him,  in  effect,  from  His 
exalted  station,  or  to  cast  a  veil  over  His  sacrifice  ?  Eather 
let  us  place  Him  in  the  front  of  our  ministrations  ;  let  us  see 
our  hearers  only  through  Him ;  let  them  see  us  only  as  His 
representatives.  The  great  government  of  God  now  is  media- 
torial in  the  highest  sense — has  no  other  basis  than  the  media- 
tion of  Christ ;  that  surely  is  an  adequate  reason  why  our 
preaching  should  be  mediatorial  also. 

But  besides  bemg  in  harmony  with  the  mind  of  God,  it  is 
the  only  preaching  adapted  to  the  wants  of  man.  It  takes 
in  all  his  history,  and  every  part  of  his  nature.  My  honoured 
brother,  could  all  the  world  be  collected  here,  I  need  not 
remind  you,  that  you,  as  a  minister  of  Christ,  could  interpret 
the  fears  and  the  hopes  of  the  whole.  Here  you  continue  to 
reproduce  all  that  is  eventful  in  the  past,  to  paint  all  that  is 
momentous  in  the  future,  and  to  bring  both  to  bear  on  the 
interests  of  the  present.  Your  hearers  will  often  need,  often 
wish,  to  have  their  own  nature  exjDlained ;  for  they  come 
vaguely  conscious  of  a  connexion  with  the  past,  of  a  dignity 
departed,  of  a  happiness  blighted,  of  a  lingering  admiration 
of  spiritual  excellence  and  worth,  and  yet  of  moral  conflicts 
ending  in  defeat,  and  of  a  depravity  requiring  superhuman 
resistance.  And  leading  them  back  into  the  past,  you  can 
point  them  to  the  first  sin  of  the  first  man,  and  remind  them 
that  they  are  the  fallen  children  of  a  fallen  parent ;  and  tearing 
away  the  veil  from  their  breast,  you  can  shew  them  that  their 
conscience  is  a  dethroned  j^ower,  their  heart  deceitful  and 
depraved,  their  nature  polluted  in  its  springs  and  principles — 
and  every  fibre  of  thcK  system  vibrates  to  the  truth  of  the 
appeal  They  come  as  sufferers,  each  with  his  secret  sorrow, 
all  yearning  for  sympathy ;  and,  oh,  how  tender  and  sacred 
the  office !  that  you  should  be  able  to  lead  forth  into  their 
midst  the  great  Sufferer — Him  "  wearing  the  crown  of  thorns 
and  the  purple  robe" — and  to  say  to  them,  "  Behold  the  man. 


14S  THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LOED  FEOM  HEAVEN. 

the  ]\Ian  of  sorrows  " — and  to  assure  tliem  that,  "  in  that  He 
hath  suffered,  being  temjjted,  He  is  able  to  succour  them  that 
are  temj)ted/'  Tliey  come  as  sinners,  troubled  with  a  sense 
of  guilt,  and  with  the  api^rehension  of  approaching  doom ;  and 
how  divine  is  your  office  in  having  to  lead  them  to  the 
uplifted  cross,  and  to  say,  "  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God  taking 
av/ay  the  sin  of  the  world" — "  Surely  He  was  wounded  for 
your  transgressions,  bruised  for  your  iniquities,  the  chastise- 
ment of  your  peace  was  upon  Him,  that  mth  Hjs  stripes  you 
might  be  healed."  As  tliose  luho  have  been  created  anew  in 
Christ  Jesus,  they  will  come  yearning  after  spiritual  excel- 
lence, and  a  i30wer  to  attain  it,  and  an  eternity  in  which  to 
enjoy  it;  and,  as  a  minister  of  Christ,  you  are  prepared  to 
meet  their  necessities.  Drawing  away  their  attention  from 
the  false  standards  set  up  by  their  fellow-men,  you  can  point 
them  to  the  second  man,  "  the  express  image"  of  Divine  per- 
fection. To  this,  says  the  apostle,  they  were  predestinated, 
"to  be  conformed  to  the  image  of  Hjs  Son ;"  and  this  is  the 
very  end  of  your  ministry,  "  that  as  they  have  borne  the 
image  of  the  earthy,  they  should  also  bear  the  image  of  the 
heavenly."  And  for  the  poiuer  of  attaining  this  resemblance, 
you  have  to  announce  that  the  Spirit  of  God  has  become  the 
very  "Spirit  of  life  in  Christ  Jesus" — the  very  Spirit  of  life, 
quickening,  regenerating,  and  giving  them  power  to  become 
the  sons  of  God.  And  as  to  their  longing  for  ever-advancing 
excellence  and  happiness,  it  is  yours  to  announce  that  the 
heaven  of  the  Bible  is  eternally  set  ajmrt  for  both  ;  that  there 
excellence  mil  know  no  pause  in  its  progress  from  throne 
to  throne,  hapj^iness  no  interruption  in  its  ever-wJdening, 
deepening  stream.  Christ  "hath  brought  life  and  immor- 
tality to  light,"  and  here  that  light  must  flash ;  hath  brought 
them  from  an  unknoAvn  distance,  and  placed  them  before  us ; 
brou«"ht  heaven  with  all  its  olories  into  our  horizon,  and  here 
those  glories  are  to  be  seen,  to  be  felt,  to  enclose  the  hearers, 
so  that  they  shall  feel  themselves  moving  under  the  powers 
of  the  world  to  come.     It  is  only  in  this  way  that  they  can 


THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LORD  FEOM  HEAVEN.  149 

be  detached  from  the  powers  of  this  world,  can  Be  made  to 
stand  apart  as  the  faithful  followers  of  "  the  second  man,  the 
Lord  from  heaven/'  It  is  only  by  thus  warning  every  man, 
and  teaching  every  man  in  all  wisdom,  that  any  of  them  can 
be  presented  perfect  in  Christ  Jesus/'  But,  in  this  way,  they 
can.  Oh,  with  what  a  mighty  power  are  we  intrusted — the 
power  of  preaching  Christ !  The  world  has  nothing  to  com- 
pare with  it.  God  himself  cannot  commit  to  us  a  greater. 
True,  it  may  degenerate  into  an  affair  of  mere  words,  of  tame 
and  heartless  repetition  ;  the  phrase  "  Christ  crucified"  may 
come  to  be  substituted  for  the  preaching  of  "  Christ  cruci- 
fied.'' True,  the  press  may  so  nearly  approach  what  the 
pulpit  ought  to  be,  as  to  become  more  than  a  rival  power. 
But  of  this  we  may  be  assured,  that  the  pulpit  cannot  be  true 
to  its  Divine  intention  without  jDroving  to  be  the  mightiest 
of  all  instrumentalities.  And  of  this  we  may  be  assured,  fur- 
ther, that  the  secret  of  its  might  lies  in  the  Cross ;  here  the 
loftiest  poetry,  the  profoundest  philosophy,  the  mightiest 
power  reside.  Man  can  never  supersede  it — society  never  out- 
grow it.  Like  some  of  the  yet  untried  substances  of  nature, 
an  unknown  power  slumbers  within  it.  And  here,  in  humble 
dependence  on  the  Holy  Spuit,  may  the  great  experiment 
continue  to  be  made,  how  much  of  that  power  may  be  called 
forth  for  the  salvation  of  men. 

2.  Secondly,  the  subject  reminds  us  of  the  great  principle 
which  separates  mankind  into  two  classes,  and  which  asso- 
ciates all  who  belong  to  one  of  these  in  a  distinct  community, 
a  church — the  principle  of  spiritual  relationship  to  the  Second 
Man.  Other  principles  of  distinction,  indeed^,  obtain  amonn- 
men.  Physiologists  have  even  propounded  the  theory  of 
diflTerent  species  of  mankind.  In  order  to  a<?count  tor  the 
varieties  of  colour,  and  language,  and  physical  structure,  they 
have  inquired  whether  or  not  the  difi'erent  branches  of  man- 
kind have  not  descended  from  different  original  stocks.  The 
amount  of  evidence,  indeed,  is  decidedly  in  favour  of  one  com- 
mon origin  of  the  species.    But  even  though  the  reverse  could 


150  THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LORD  FEOM  HEAVEN. 

be  demonstrated,  one  distinction  there  is  which  would  sepa- 
rate all  these  varieties  into  tAVo  parts,  the  distinction  arising 
from  the  union  of  some  of  them  to  the  second  man,  from 
heaven.  Class  them  according  to  their  physical  relations, 
and  you  will  arrange  them  according  to  country,  and  colour, 
and  bodily  conformation.  Class  them  according  to  their  pro- 
gress in  civilization,  and  you  will  have  to  break  up  the  other 
arrangement,  and  to  bring  together  parties  which  you  had 
before  separated.  Class  them  according  to  their  tastes,  and 
wishes,  and  affections,  and  you  form  a  new  arrangement,  and 
a  stronger  compact  still.  But  now  select  those  who,  while 
admitting  their  common  descent  from  the  first  Adam,  liave 
passed  over  into  a  new  relationship  to  the  second,  who 
recognize  Him  as  their  new  and  only  Head  of  mercy  and  hap- 
piness, and  whose  aim  it  is  to  identify  themselves  with  Him 
in  spirit,  character,  and  pursuit, — and  you  have  formed  a  com- 
munity differing  hi  essence  from  every  other.  All  other  com- 
munities agree  more  than  they  differ,  for  they  all  have  their 
root  in  the  first  man.  This  differs  from  them  all  more  than 
it  agrees,  for  it  has  its  root  in  the  second.  This  is  His  new 
society.  This  is  the  Church — ''His  body,  tlie  Church."  He 
himself  is  made  "  head  over  all  thuio;s  for  it.''  The  first  man 
saw  his  seed;  and  it  was  jiredicted  of  the  second,  "He  shall 
see  his  seed" — and  here  He  beholds  them.  They  are  "  born 
from  above.''  They  are  "joined  unto  the  Lord."  Their 
relationship  to  Him  places  them  in  a  new  relation  to  every 
thing  in  the  universe,  breaks  up  some  of  their  previous  rela- 
tions, gives  a  new  character  to  the  rest,  and  forms  additional 
ones  of  the  most  exalted  nature.  Their  relationship  to  Him 
transcends  every  other — gives  them  a  right  to  the  tree  of  life 
— unites  them  to  Him  who  is  the  life — opens  to  them  the 
prospect  of  thrones  in  heaven.  Their  relationship  to  Him  is 
destined  to  outlive  every  other.  You  lift  your  thoughts  to 
the  scenes  of  the  last  day,  and  you  see  the  Son  of  man  sitting 
upon  the  throne  of  His  glory,  and  before  Him  are  gathered  all 
nations,  all  the  posterity  of  Adam,  and  you  see  Him  separate 


THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LORD  FEOai  HEAVEN.  151 

them  one  from  another,  as  a  shepherd  divideth  his  sheep 
from  the  goats.  On  his  left  hand  are  seen  all  those  Avho 
chose  to  retain  their  connexion  with  the  fellcn  head  of 
humanity ;  on  the  right,  all  who  came  into  vital  alliance  with 
the  second  man,  the  Lord  from  heaven.  The  generalization 
will  be  simple;  the  division  definite,  one.  Every  other  con- 
nexion will  have  melted  away  before  the  final  fires.  The 
golden  chain  which  binds  His  people  to  himself  will  be  the 
only  remaining  bond.  Now,  that  scene  will  simply  exhibit 
what  ought  to  have  been  His  Church  on  earth,  transferred  to 
His  right  hand  in  heaven.  His  Gospel  is  continued  among 
us,  is  allowed  to  be  preached  here  and  elsewhere,  simply  for 
the  formation  of  that  relationship,  the  enlargement  and  com- 
pletion of  that  Church.  The  world  is  already  divided  to  His 
eye.  The  two  classes  of  which  we  have  spoken  are  as  distinct 
to  His  eye  now  as  they  will  be  in  the  last  day.  At  this 
moment  they  are  sitting,  in  eff'ect,  the  one  on  His  right  hand 
and  the  other  on  His  left.  This  congregation,  mingled  as  it 
is  to  our  eye,  to  His  eye  is  accurately  divided — separated  by 
a  distance  which  defies  all  measurement.  But,  as  yet,  the 
division  is  not  final.  And  He  will  account  His  Gospel  to 
succeed  here  just  in  proportion  as  it  is  the  means  of  deepen- 
ing "the  image  of  the  heavenly"  in  His  people,  and  of  aug- 
menting their  number  from  the  ranks  of  the  ungodly— just  in 
proportion,  that  is,  as  it  induces  men  to  pass  over  from  the 
mass  of  worldhness  on  His  lefc  hand,  to  join  the  renewed 
community  on  His  right,  and  thus  to  prepare  for  the  grand 
classification  of  the  last  day. 

o.  Then,  finally,  what  should  be  our  conduct  as  the  pro- 
fessed followers  and  representatives  of  the  second  man — the 
Head  of  redeemed  humanity  ?  That  He  does  not  demand 
from  us  impossibilities  may  be  taken  for  granted  ;  for  He 
wears  our  natm-e,  "  and  can  be  touched  with  the  feeling  of 
om*  infirmities."  But  that  His  requirements  would  be  com- 
prehensive, urgent,  supreme,  and  that  they  would  be  even 
startling  in  their  extent  to  an  unreflecting,  unformed  piety, 


152  THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LOED  FEOM  HEAVEN. 

might  have  been  antecedently  expected  ;  for  a  state  of  mind 
which  would  thus  revolt  from  them,  is  a  part  of  the  very  evil 
from  which  we  have  to  be  redeemed.  And  that  there  would 
be  some  periods  and  states  of  society  in  which  these  low 
views  of  His  requirements  would  especially  prevail,  was  to 
be  expected.  My  impression  is,  that  the  present  is  one  of 
those  states ;  that  a  tacit  compromise  has  taken  place,  in 
effect,  between  the  two  races  of  which  we  have  been  speaking 
— between  the  Church  and  the  world — the  Church  having 
given  up  much  of  its  inward  distinctive  spirit,  on  condition 
that  the  world  would  conform  to  its  outward  demeanour;  and, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  Church,  it  is  to  be  feared,  has  received 
much  of  the  spirit  of  the  world,  and  has  not  been  slow  in 
adopting  many  of  its  forms  and  habits.  Indeed,  so  far  has 
this  compromise  obtained,  that,  to  insist  on  the  essential, 
scriptural  distinction  between  the  two,  has  become  to  a  great 
degree  distasteful.  To  leave  the  Church  in  the  world  was  to 
expose  it  to  a  danger  which  called  forth  the  earnest  interces- 
sions of  its  Divine  head  ;  but  the  world  in  the  Church  is  a 
danger  a  thousandfold  greater,  and  one  which  should  excite 
universal  concern. 

Brethren,  whatever  the  doctrinal  heresies  of  the  day  may 
be,  the  great  ^jractical  heresy,  peculiar  to  no  one  denomma- 
tion,  but  belonging  in  different  degrees  to  all,  is  that  of  a 
defective  zeal — a  zeal  which  is  content  to  copy,  not  from 
anything  in  the  Bible,  but  from  everything  out  of  it ;  not 
from  the  Head  of  the  Church,  but  from  the  unwortliiest 
of  His  followers.  And  will  not  this  sufficiently  account  for 
every  other  deficiency  and  evil  we  have  to  deplore  ?  My 
brethren,  if  you  can  be  thus  content,  we  shall  not  be  surprised 
to  hear  that  you  are  in  a  languid,  lifeless  state  ;  just  moving, 
and  nothing  more  ;  not  moving  others  ;  not  anxious  to  be 
quickened  yourselves.  You  will  be  able  to  do  without  earnest 
prayer  to  God  ;  you  will  be  able  to  do  without  the  Spirit  of 
God  himself ;  for  you  will  aim  at  nothing  high,  nothing 
spiritual,  nothing  at  which  He  aims.     But  take  a  high  stan- 


THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LOED  FEOM  HEAVEN.  153 

darcl  of  devotedness — copy  from  the  examj^le  of  Christ  hmi- 
self — and  you  will  wrestle  in  prayer  for  the  Spirit  of  God, 
for  you  will  find  yourselves  labouring  in  a  field  in  which  God 
alone  can  give  the  increase. 

In  no  other  way  can  the  Church  of  Christ  ever  answer  its 
great  design.  So  sj^iritual  are  its  aims,  that  a  worldly 
Church  can  never  look  at  them.  So  vast  its  objects,  that  a 
half-hearted  piety  will  never  attemi^t  them,  and  would  never 
attain  them  if  it  did.  So  various  its  duties,  that  an  unre- 
flecting piety  will  never  even  know  them.  The  Church  of 
Christ !  why,  it  is  His  irpresentative  to  the  world  ;  what 
Christian  grace  can  it  spare  ?  It  is  the  agent  of  Christ ; 
what  resources  can  it  dispense  with  ?  It  is  the  blood-bought 
servant  of  the  Son  of  God  ;  what  part  or  property  of  any  of 
all  its  members  does  not  belong  entirely  to  Him  ?  Christ, 
a  self-sacrificing  Saviour,  is  its  example — and  men  sinking 
into  perdition  are  the  objects  of  its  concern  ;  can  it  feel  too 
deeply,  entreat  too  earnestly,  labour  too  devotedly,  in  order 
to  copy  that  example  and  to  save  those  souls  ?  Oh,  what 
devoted  followers  have  some  men — some  mere  human  leaders 
— had,  though  both  their  fame  and  the  objects  of  their  pur- 
suit were  w^orse  than  doubtful — followers  whose  zeal  never 
faltered,  whose  lives  were  a  perpetual  sacrifice  1  And  poetry 
celebrates  their  praise,  and  posterity  converts  their  names 
into  titles  of  reno\vn.  Here  is  "  the  second  man,''  the  Head 
of  redeemed  humanity — shall  He  alone  be  served  by  heart- 
less followers  ?  So  vast  and  full  of  grace  is  His  mediatorial 
design,  that  He  requires  all  the  powers  of  all  His  people — 
has  work  for  them  all.  And  even  if  He  had  them,  the 
kindest  tones  cannot  equal  the  tenderness  of  His  entreaties  ; 
the  hottest  tears  cannot  express  His  anguish  over  human 
misery  ;  the  most  throbbing  heart  cannot  beat  quick  enough 
to  satisfy  His  eager  longing  for  human  salvation ;  all  the 
influence  which  the  collective  Church  could  bring  to  His 
service  could  not  do  justice  to  His  free,  and  full,  and  gushing 


154}  THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LOED  FEOM  HEAVEN. 

benevolence — could  not  form  channels  wide  and  deep  enougli 
to  pour  forth  the  ocean-fulness  of  His  grace. 

Brethren,  in  building  this  house  for  God,  you  profess  to 
sympathize  with  Him  in  His  designs  of  grace.  Then,  you 
will  come  here  to  work  as  well  as  to  worship.  You  have 
been  only  providing  the  means  of  usefulness  ;  now  you  will 
begin  to  aim  at  the  end.  The  first  service  in  this  new  sanc- 
tuary draws  to  a  close ;  shall  it  not  be  signalized  by  some 
appropriate  expression  of  your  Christian  zeal  ?  You  have 
built  the  altar. ;  what  are  you  prepared  to  lay  on  it  ?  You 
have  become  "new  creatures  in  Christ  Jesus;"'  will  you  not 
aim  at  becoming  new  Christians  ?  Parents,  wtII  you  not 
earnestly  pray  that  here  your  children  may  be  "  born  again 
of  the  incorruptible  seed  of  the  word"?  My  young  friends, 
and  you  who  have  been  long  debating  the  question  of  a  ftdl 
surrender  to  God,  shall  not  this  be  the  time  for  bringing  the 
great  question  to  an  issue  ?  A  new  sanctuary  is  opened ; 
how  appropriate  would  be  the  opening  of  new  hearts,  hearts 
to  which  He  had  never  been  welcomed  before  !  "  Behold,'' 
saith  He,  "  I  stand  at  the  door,  and  knock  I"  Vfhat  hearts 
will  open?  Who,  then,  is  willing  to  consecrate  his  service 
this  day  unto  the  Lord  ?  this  day,  before  these  opening  ser- 
vices close  ?  It  would  lift  this  place  at  once  out  of  an 
ordinary  position,  and  connect  it  with  Eden  and  Sinai,  with 
Calvary  and  Heaven — v/ould  secure  for  it  a  distinguished 
place  in  the  map  of  the  Divine  dominions.  It  would  connect 
this  day  with  the  last  day.  And  it  is  on  that  day  the  eye  of 
Christ  is  fixed.  And  does  the  sight  delight  Him  ?  The 
messages  here  delivered — the  praj^ers  ofi'ered — the  liberality 
of  zeal  manifested — the  summing  uj)  of  the  whole  in  the  last 
great  day — and  then  the  consequences  through  all  the  ever- 
lasting future — the  whole  is  before  Him ;  and,  as  He  looks  on 
it,  is  He  satisfied  ?  This  opening  service — we  have  spoken 
of  its  close,  but  it  closes  not  with  the  day.  Already  it  is 
blended  with  your  history  for  ever ;  already  it  belongs  to  the 


THE  SECOND  ADAM  THE  LOED  FEOM  HEAVEN.  155 

history  of  an  everlasting  kingdom,  is  taken  up  into  tlie  affairs 
of  the  Son  of  man,  forms  part  of  the  imperishable  records 
of  His  government.  Time  is  precions  to  Him ;  this  day, 
each  service  is  precious  to  Him.  For  He  sees  the  end  of 
the  whole.  And  He  would  not  have  one  close  without  its 
telling  usefully  on  that  end.  What  will  then  appear  to  have 
been  the  effects  of  this  day  ?  On  that  distant  result  His  eye 
is  at  this  moment  fixed.  Oh,  could  we  mark  His  looks  as 
He  regards  it ! — His  looks  !  Try,  in  the  silence  of  solitude 
— try  to  imagine  them. 

Brethren,  act  on  the  firm  conviction  that  every  prayer  you 
ofier  in  His  name,  every  gift  you  present  in  His  service, 
every  efibrt  you  make  for  His  glory — will  heighten  His 
Divine  delight,  will  brighten  those  eternal  consequences  of 
which  we  have  spoken,  will  enhance  your  own  blessedness 
for  ever.  Act  on  the  conviction  now ;  and  may  God  grant 
you  His  effectual  blessing.     Amen. 


156    THE  SON  INCARNATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD. 


SEKMON  VII. 

THE  SON  INCAENATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OP  GOD. 

Heb.  X.  5-7 — "  Wherefore,  ivlien  he  cometli  into  tJie  iDorld^  he  saith^  Sacri- 
fice and  offering  thou  wouldest  not,  but  a  body  hast  thou  prepared 
me :  In  burnt-offerings  and  sacrifices  for  sin  thou  liast  had  no  pleasure. 
Then  said  I,  Zo,  /  come  (in  the  volume  of  the  book  it  is  written  of  me) 
to  do  thj  icill^  O  God."" 

The  text  is  a  quotation  from  the  40th  Psahn ;  and,  as  it  is  here 
introduced  and  employed,  it  may  be  regarded  as  answering 
several  questions,  which,  when  it  was  first  uttered,  and 
during  tlie  remainder  of  the  Jewish  economy,  it  was  likely 
to  suggest.  For  example,  was  it  calculated  to  awaken  the 
inquiry,  "  Of  whom  speaketh  the  prophet  this — of  himself  or 
of  some  other  man  ? "  The  apostle  here  determines  that  it 
was  spoken  prophetically  of  Christ;  that  it  was  uttered  pro- 
spectively by  Christ.  Was  it  asked,  at  what  point  of  time 
the  Messiah  was  to  be  supposed  to  utter  it  ?  "  When  he 
Cometh  into  the  world,"  replies  the  apostle ;  and  when,  by 
coming,  the  dispensation  of  shadows  was  made  to  give  place 
to  the  "  very  things  "  foreshadowed.  And  as  the  expres- 
sion, "  mine  ear  hast  thou  opened,''  denoted  the  readiness  of 
Messiah  to  hear  and  to  obey,  was  it  asked,  "  To  what  extent 
will  He  obey  ?  "  The  apostle  replies,  to  the  offering  up  of 
His  body  as  a  sacrifice  for  sin.  The  immediate  object  of  the 
apostle  in  introducing  this  Scripture  was,  to  add  another  to 
the  many  particulars  which  he  had  already  noticed,  in  wliich 
the  Christian  dispensation  rises  superior  to  the  Mosaic.     "It 


THE  SON  INCAENATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD.    157 

is  superior  in  tliis  respect,  also/'  lie  remarks,  "that  the  one 
offering  of  the  body  of  Christ  upon  the  cross  is  a  suffi- 
cient expiation  for  sin,  and  for  ever  supersedes  all  other 
sacrifices/'' 

But  while  this  was  His  immediate  object,  other  and  higher 
truths  than  that  of  the  inferiority  or  the  abolition  of  the 
Jewish  economy  are  involved  in  it ;  and  to  these,  as  more 
suited  to  our  present  object,  we  will  now  direct  our  attention. 
It  presents  us,  for  instance,  with  a  view  of  Christ  comino- 
into  a  world  of  self-willed,  disobedient  creatures — comino- 
not  to  punish  them,  but  to  save  ;  coming  to  save  them  by 
suffering  ;  coming  to  shew  them  that  the  only  condition  on 
which  He  can  be  a  Saviour  is,  by  being  an  obedient  sufferer ; 
coming  to  shew  them  that  obedience  to  the  will  of  God  is 
the  only  true  dignity,  and  to  furnish  them  with  the  strongest 
inducements  to  copy  his  example. 

Viewed  in  this  light,  then,  the  text  reminds  us  that  all 
intelligent  creatures  can  find  their  happiness  and  perfection 
only  in  obedience  to  the  Divine  will ;  that  man  has  violated 
that  will,  and  lost  his  spiritual  excellence  and  haj^piness  ; 
that  his  restoration,  however,  and  the  re-enthronement  of  the 
Divine  will,  have  been  made  possible,  by  the  vicarious  obe- 
dience of  the  Son  of  God;  that  as  many  as  recover  their 
excellence  and  happiness  again,  by  recovering  their  harmony 
with  the  Divine  will,  are  bound  to  do  all  they  can  for  the 
restoration  of  all  the  rest ;  and  that  the  weightiest  motives 
urge  them  to  the  performance  of  this  duty. 

I. 

In  the  first  j^lace,  the  text  reminds  us  that  intelligent 
creatures  can  find  their  happiness  and  perfection  only  in  the 
harmony  of  their  wills  with  the  will  of  God.  Need  I  re- 
mind you  that,  before  the  first  creative  fiat  went  forth,  it  was 
entirely  dependent  on  the  Divine  will  whether  there  should 
be  a  created  universe  at  all  ?  and  then,  that  it  was  equally 
dependent  on  the  Divine  will  what  that  universe  should  be  ? 


158        THE  SON  INCAENATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD. 

The  only  thing  certain  was,  tliat  if  a  creation  Y/as  called 
fortli,  it  wonld  be  an  expression  of  His  will,  and  in  harmony 
with  His  j)erfection.  Need  I  remind  you  that  He  willed, 
and  myriads  of  bright  and  sjDiritual  forms  aj)peared  around 
His  throne,  each  having  a  will  of  his  own,  but  all  in  harmony 
with  His  will  ?  Penetrated  with  the  conviction,  that  to  obey 
Him  was  their  hiHiest  freedom,  to  be  like  Him  their,  truest 
glory,  they  were  "  swift  to  do  his  will,  hearkening  to  the 
voice  of  his  word/'  Each  voluntarily  flew  at  His  bidding, 
like  a  thought  of  God  in  motion ;  and  at  His  bidding  all 
stood  around  His  throne ;  and  like  a  sea  of  glass,  reflected 
the  glory  which  was  there  unveiled,  while  they  raised  the 
song,  "Thou  hast  created  all  things,  0  God,  and  for  thy 
pleasure  they  are  and  were  created/'  Here,  then,  was  solved 
the  first  great  problem  of  moral  government,  that  more  wills 
than  one  can  co-exist,  and  yet  be  free ;  that  finite  wills  can 
be  subordinated  to  the  Supreme  will,  and  yet  be  free  ;  free, 
not  in  spite  of  that  subordination,  but  in  consequence  of  it ; 
free,  only  so  long  as  that  willing  subordination  continues  ; 
so  free,  as  to  be  accountable  for  every  volition  ;  so  free, 
as  to  constitute  a  glorious  representation  of  the  Divine 
freedom. 

But  was  this  the  only  way  in  v/hich  he  could  be  obeyed  ? 
Eepair  to  another  part  of  the  universe,  and  receive  the 
Divine  reply.  Here,  another  substance  has  been  called  into 
existence — matter.  This  material  substance  the  creative 
hand  has  moulded  into  an  infinite  variety  of  forms,  and 
endowed  with  an  infinite  variety  of  pro23erties  ;  but  search 
among  them  all,  and  you  will  find  nothing  deserving  the 
name  of  a  will.  Where,  when  the  Divine  Benignity  smiles 
— ^where,  amidst  all  the  forms  of  mere  animal  life,  is  the 
countenance  to  reflect  and  return  the  smile  ?  Where,  when 
He  speaks,  is  the  ear  to  hear,  and  the  will  to  obey  ?  True, 
He  is  obeyed ;  but  it  is  the  unresisting  obedience  of  a 
machine,  which  cannot  go  wrong,  cannot  disobey.  He  is 
obeyed  ;  but  how  different  the  service  from  the  obedience  of 


THE  SON  INCAENATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD.         159 

heaven  !  There,  His  will  is  done  voluntarily,  by  holy  intel- 
ligences, who  anticipate  His  bidding,  and  even  exceed  His 
commands ;  while,  here,  it  is  done  blindly,  involuntarily, 
inevitably.  Here,  as  yet,  no  eye  looks  towards  His  throne — 
no  heart  beats  for  His  honour  ! 

And  are  these  the  only  two  ways  in  which  God  can  be 
honoured — by  the  voluntary  service  of  spirits  in  heaven,  and 
by  the  involuntary  service  of  matter,  animate  and  inanimate, 
on  earth  ?  And  shall  this  earth  never  be  the  scene  of  any 
other,  any  better  service  ?  What  if  an  order  of  beings  were 
to  be  created  on  purpose — beings,  uniting  in  their  consti- 
tution the  sjmitual  natures  peculiar  to  heaven,  and  the 
organs  and  senses  of  the  material  creatures  of  earth  !  Vv^iat 
if  a  voluntary  being  should  be  made,  capable  of  taking  the 
whole  involuntary  world  which  he  found  in  existence  when 
he  came,  and  of  offering  it  up  as  a  free-will  offering  to  God  ! 
His  will  doing  God's  will ;  and  everything  else  doing  his 
will ! 

Listen,  and,  in  imagination,  you  may  hear  the  sons  of  God, 
as  they  press  towards  Eden,  shouting  for  joy.  For,  lo,  the 
problem  is  solved — the  creature  is  made — God  may  hence- 
forth be  served  on  earth  as  He  is  in  heaven.  Kepair  to  the 
scene,  and  examine  the  wonderful  constitution  of  the  new- 
made  being.  He  has  a  sense  for  the  perception  of  every 
material  object,  and  an  emotion  answering  to  every  move- 
ment of  the  world  luitliout  him.  But,  mark,  in  addition  to 
all  this,  he  has  a  will  with  which  to  direct  his  perceptions 
and  control  his  emotions — a  will  like  the  angels — a  will,  the 
very  counterpart  and  image  of  the  Divine  will — so  that  if 
God  say,  "  I  will  that  you  serve  me,"  man  is  made  to  respond, 
•'And  I  will  to  be  thy  servant.''  And  all  material  objects 
and  mechanical  laws — the  whole  world — is  given  into  his 
hands,  that  he  may  have  wherewith  to  serve  God.  Have 
dominion  over  all — saith  God.  Hitherto,  they  had  subserved 
the  Divine  purpose  without  the  intervention  of  any  will;  but 
now  a  creature  w^ith  a  will  is  to  come  between  them  and  God, 


160        THE  SON  INCARNATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD. 

and  is  to  take  them  and  bear  tliem  into  tlie  Divine  presence 
as  a  free-will  oiFering. 

Talk  not  of  treasures  stored  up  in  the  temples  of  antiquity 
— of  the  spices  for  incense,  and  the  golden  vessels  for  obla- 
tion. Wonder  not  at  these.  Here  was  a  being  for  whom 
the  earth  was  a  temple,  and  that  earth  stored  from  the  centre 
to  the  surface  with  the  sacred  treasures  for  the  altar.  Nay, 
that  earth  entire,  as  it  was  seen  speeding  through  space — 
what  was  it  but  an  altar  at  which  man  was  to  be  perpetually 
ministering?  He  was  to  be  the  priest  of  creation.  Every- 
thing that  hath  breath  was  to  praise  the  Lord  through  his 
lips.  The  whisper  of  the  winds,  and  the  voice  of  the  waves, 
were  to  find  an  interpreter  in  him,  and  to  symj)honize  with 
his  song.  The  fragrance  of  nature,  and  its  richest  gems,  were 
to  furnish  him  with  incense  and  offerings.  And  thus  this 
creature  with  a  will  was  not  only  to  serve  God  himself,  but 
all  the  material  objects  and  mechanical  laws  of  earth  were  to 
be  pressed  by  him  and  promoted  into  the  service  of  God  like- 
wise. Yes,  this  unconscious  globe  itself,  as  if  a  soul  had  been 
given  to  it — as  if  the  very  planet  had  been  endowed  with  a 
free  will,  and  had  then  voluntarily  moved  into  the  presence 
of  its  Maker,  and  there  exhaled  itself  away  in  incense  to  His 
praise — was  to  be  sacred  to  his  service.  For  the  whole  of  it 
was  given  to  man,  and  he,  whatever  use  he  made  of  it,  whether 
he  ate  of  its  fruits,  or  drank  of  its  juices,  whatever  he  did,  was 
to  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God. 

Nor  was  this  the  whole  of  the  Vv^ondrous  arrangement. 
Examine  the  constitution  of  the  new-made  being  more  closely 
still,  and  you  will  find  that,  in  his  own  person,  he  unites  the 
constitution  of  two  worlds — of  heaven  and  of  earth.  He 
has  the  spontaneous  voluntary  power  of  serving  God,  peculiar 
to  heaven — for  he  is  a  spmt;  and  he  has  the  material  and 
mechanical  nature  peculiar  to  earth,  for  he  is  in  a  body. 
Heaven  and  earth  meet  together  in  him — he  is  a  spirit  in- 
carnate. Did  we  say  just  now  that  the  unconscious  globe 
itself,  as  if  a  soul  or  a  will  had  been  given  to  it,  was  now  to 


THE  SON  INCAENATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OP  GOD.    161 

be  sacred  to  the  service  of  God  ?  In  tlie  constitution  of  man 
the  idea  has  been  substantially  realized.  The  human  body 
is  that  world  in  a  compressed  form.  You  cannot  name  a 
l^art  ]ior  a  law  belonging  to  the  one,  the  counterpart  of  which 
you  may  not  find  in  the  other.  And  do  you  not  see  why  it 
is  that  such  a  body  has  been  placed  under  the  control  of  his 
will — why  it  is  that  a  body  made  up  of  mechanical,  chemical 
organic,  and  animal  laws  should  all  be  given  to  the  dominie  n 
of  his  will?  It  is  that  his  holy  and  obedient  will  might  take 
it  into  the  psesence  of  God,  and  subordinate  the  whole  to  His 
glory.  This  is  the  scriptural  explanation.  He  is  to  present 
his  body  a  living  sacrifice,  holy  and  acceptable  to  God,  which 
is  his  reasonable  service.  And  observe,  in  doing  this — in 
presenting  to  God  a  body  in  which  all  the  laws  of  the  mate- 
rial world  are  summed  up — he  is  in  effect  presenting  that 
world  itself  v/hich  has  been  given  him  to  use. 

Now,  then,  we  have  seen  the  v/ill  of  God  done  in  a  three- 
fold maimer.  In  heaven,  by  the  angels,  voluntarily;  on  earth, 
by  the  inanimate  and  irrational  creation,  unconsciously  and 
involuntarily;  and  now,  by  man,  in  whom  the  voluntary  and 
involuntary  meet — the  involuntary  body  being  made  sub- 
servient to  the  ruling  will,  and  that  will  subordinated  to 
and  harmonizing  with  the  Divine  will.  Wondrous  arrange- 
ment this,  and  worthy  of  a  God !  by  which  perfect  freedom 
and  perfect  obedience  are  harmonized  and  made  one;  by 
which  every  act  of  my  holy  will  vibrates  to  the  throne  of 
the  universe,  and  falls  in  with  the  will  of  Him  who  sits  on  it ; 
by  which  the  act  in  which  man  puts  forth  his  highest  energy 
and  his  noblest  assertion  of  liberty  is,  at  the  same  time,  the 
act  most  perfectly  in  harmony  with  the  Divine  wiU,  and  with 
all  the  laws  of  created  nature.  Grave  and  solemn  privilege ! 
which  gives  my  character,  my  wellbeing  into  my  own  keep- 
ing; which  makes  me  a  law  to  myself;  which  leaves  it  possible 
for  me  to  oppose  the  will  of  Him  that  made  me — that  loves 
me;  which,  while  it  places  me  in  harmony  with  aU  His  laws, 
yet  so  places  me  there,  as  to  leave  it  possible  for  me  to  break 


i  62         THE  SON  INCARNATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD. 

a^Yay  from  them  all — to  attempt  to  erect  myself  into  a  sepa- 
rate interest,  a  hostile  government ;  where  almost  every  act  of 
my  will — all  my  most  cherished  and  determined  acts — still 
vibrating  to  the  throne  of  God,  shall  reach  there  only  to 
aronse  the  sleejDing  thunder  of  His  displeasure,  and  the  hoarse 
and  aoo-ravated  echoes  of  all  violated  nature. 

Tremendous  possibility !  For,  what  if  the  new-made  man 
should  abuse  his  freedom?  What  if  the  possibility  should 
become  a  fearful  reality?  Who  can  foresee  the  consequences? 
As  to  his  body;  what  if  its  hand  should  pluak  forbidden 
fruit — its  tonoue  utter  deceit — all  its  members  become 
instruments  of  unrighteousness  unto  sin?  As  to  the  material 
universe  around ;  what  if  he  should  take  himself  out  of  har- 
mony with  its  laws — extracting  poison  from  its  j^lants,  and 
maddening  juices  from  its  fruits,  and  forging  its  metals  into 
weapons  for  the  slaughter  of  his  fellows  ?  What  if  he  should 
league  with  other  self-willed  beings  like  himself — league  with 
them  solely  to  augment  his  power  for  crushing  others,  and 
for  openly  disowning  his  allegiance  to  heaven  ?  Nay,  what  if 
in  the  jDrogress  of  man's  history,  he  should  come  to  think  of 
setting  up  a  god  of  his  own?  What  if,  turning  his  back  on 
the  throne  of  his  Maker  and  his  Sovereign,  he  should  go  and 
fashion  a  block  of  wood  or  of  marble,  and  say,  "  Be  thou 
my  god,"  and  fall  down  and  adore  it?  Or  worse  still — there 
is  a  rebel  angel  at  large  in  the  universe — a  sworn  enemy  to 
the  righteous  government  of  God;  what  if  a  man  should 
yield  himself  uj)  to  his  control — should  be  led  captive  by 
Satan  at  his  will?  And  what  if  he  should  complete  his 
degradation  and  his  guilt  by  calling  the  worshi])  of  his  own 
vices,  religion ;  the  thraldom  of  Satan,  liberty  ?  What  if  here, 
where  the  will  of  God  should  be  done  as  it  is  in  heaven,  the 
will  of  Satan  should  be  done  instead,  as  it  is  in  hell? 

II. 

Brethren,  I  need  not  say,  secondly,  that  this  is  history — 
the  history  of  man.     The  hour  of  trial  came ;  and  lie  fell.    A 


THE  SON  mCAENATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD.         163 

law  was  given  him ;  and,  oh,  better  had  a  star  fallen  from 
its  sphere,  and  been  falling  still!  he  broke  away  from  its 
sacred  restraint — deranged  the  harmony  of  his  own  nature — 
distm'bed  the  tranquillity  of  the  universe — incm-red  the 
penalty  of  transgression.  Mercy  spared  him,  but  he  relented 
not;  justice  threatened  him,  but  he  quailed  not.  His  race 
multiplied;  but,  with  rare  exceptions,  every  addition  to  his 
numbers  was  an  additional  element  of  hostility  to  God. 
Generation  followed  generation,  only  to  take  up  the  quarrel 
and  widen  the  breach.  The  Lord  looked  down  from  heaven 
to  see  if  there  were  any  that  did  understand,  that  did  seek 
after  God.  Alas !  they  had  all  revolted :  there  was  none  that 
did  good;  no,  not  one. 

And  what  was  the  quarrel  between  God  and  man  but  a 
contest  of  wills?  Analyze  it,  and  you  will  find  that  the  gist  of 
the  whole  was  this :  Whose  will  should  be  done  on  earth — 
The  will  of  the  HoHest  and  the  Best,  or  the  will  of  the 
guiltiest  and  the  most  depraved?  And  for  maintaining  this 
monstrous  struggle,  men  could  not  plead  that  they  had  never 
known  the  will  of  God ;  for  when  they  knew  God,  they  glo- 
rified Him  not  as  God.  They  could  not  plead  that  since  then 
no  opportunity  had  been  afforded  them  of  recovering  the 
knowledge  of  His  will ;  a  succession  of  messengers  had  been 
sent  to  inform  them — miracles  had  been  wrought  before  their 
eyes — Smai  had  been  kindled,  and  the  will  of  God  republished. 
They  could  not  urge  that  His  laws  were  repulsive ;  their  very 
essence  was  love — love  to  God  and  love  to  man.  Nor  could 
they  plead  that  they  had  found  an  easier  and  a  better  law: 
for,  having  cast  off  the  highest  authority,  was  it  wonderful 
that  they  should  be  found  embroiled  in  a  contest  for  supe- 
riority among  themselves?  Such  was  their  actual  condition. 
The  great  quarrel  which  at  times  threatened  the  race  with  a 
war  of  extermination  was.  Whose  human  will  should  prevail? 
The  great  and  only  point  on  v/hich  they  were  all  agreed  was, 
that  they  would  not  obey  the  will  of  God. 

What  a  spectacle  of  anarchy  and  revolt  must  earth  have 


164        THE  SON  INCAENATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD. 

now  presented  to  the  sons  of  Liglit !  Did  tliey  think  of  the 
morning  when  they  sang  together  over  the  new-made  being 
endowed  with  the  lofcy  jDOwer  of  vohmtarily  doing  the  will 
of  God?  Alas!  he  was  still  voluntarily  doing  the  will  of  a 
god;  but  what  a  god  had  he  chosen?  Did  tliey  mark  the 
Ijurposes  to  which  he  applied  that  body  so  fearfully  and  vron- 
derfuUy  made?  The  whole  mechanism  was  perverted — its 
eyes  were  full  of  adultery — its  tongue  using  deceit — its  feet 
swift  to  shed  blood — all  its  members  instruments  of  un- 
righteousness unto  sin.  Did  they  look  after  those  material 
objects  and  laws  of  nature  which  had  preceded  his  coming, 
and  which  had  done  the  will  of  God  involuntarily?  He  had 
perverted  even  these.  There  was  not  an  element  which  he 
had  not  ingeniously  pressed  into  the  service  of  sin — hardly 
an  object  which  he  did  not  worship.  Its  choicest  marbles 
were  sculptured  into  idol  forms;  its  choicest  minerals  built 
into  idol  temples;  its  precious  metals  were  lavished  on  idol 
shrines;  and  its  richest  perfumes  were  burning  as  incense  to 
idol  gods.  Did  they  cast  an  eye  on  Jud^a?  Its  law,  though 
derived  from  heaven,  had  been  made  of  none  effect  by  men's 
traditions — that  is,  their  will  had  repealed  the  published  will 
of  God.  Its  temj^le  had  become  a  den  of  thieves.  Its  sacri- 
ficial types  had  for  them  ceased  to  typify.  Its  whole  ritual 
had  corrupted  and  corrupted,  till  it  bred  nothing  but  Phari- 
sees and  Sadducees,  and  monsters  prepared  to  nail  incarnate 
excellence  to  a  cross. 

And  did  they  not  then  mournfully  mark  the  cause  of  the 
whole;  the  revolt  of  the  will — the  demoniacal  possession  of 
the  will  ?  This  was  at  once  the  secret  of  man's  fearful  change; 
and  constituted,  in  created  eyes,  its  utter  hopelessness.  Had 
his  will  remained  loyal  to  God — had  he  been  coerced  into 
evil  against  his  will  by  a  power  without  him — Omnipotence 
could  have  crushed  the  coercing  power,  and  have  set  man  at 
liberty.  But  he  had  consented  to  sin,  his  will  was  the  leader 
of  the  revolt.  What  can  the  government  of  God  accept  as 
an  atonement  for  such  guilt— and  from  what  quarter  of  the 


THE  SON  INCAENATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD.        1 65 

universe  can  lielp  be  expected  to  come?  Had  he  fallen  into 
evil  tlirough  some  misapprehension  of  the  Divine  will,  he 
wonld  only  have  required  to  be  set  right  in  his  judgment  in 
order  to  be  restored  to  happiness.  But  no ;  it  was  his  will 
that  had  yielded — had  drawn  all  the  powers  of  his  nature 
after  it,  and  had  armed  them  all  in  the  cause  of  sin.  Where 
then,  even  if  the  means  of  atonement  to  God  can  be  found, 
where  is  the  agency  for  reclaiming  the  human  will — ^for 
restoring  man's  holiness — without  impairing  his  freedom? 
Nature  knew  not — the  angels  of  Light  knew  not.  Had  the 
evil  consisted  of  a  mere  material  derangement — had  all 
material  nature  fallen  into  utter  confusion — they  themselves 
might  have  extricated,  adjusted,  and  restored  the  whole  to 
order;  but  to  render  a  compensation  for  sin,  and  to  bring 
back  into  harmony  with  Infinite  Holiness  a  world  of  revolted 
wills,  what  could  they  do  but  sympathize  with  the  claims  of 
that  Holiness,  and  deplore  the  lost  condition  of  that  world? 

III. 

But  even  then,  when  to  all  human,  all  created  eyes,  the 
universe  was  empty,  utterly  void  of  aid,  help  was  on  the  way. 
Even  then,  when  revolted  infatuated  man  was  saying,  "  We 
will  not  have  God  to  reign  over  us,''  and  was  vowing  alle- 
giance to  Satan,  that  God  was  saying,  was  swearing,  "  As  I 
Hve,  I  will  not  the  death  of  the  sinner;''  an  oath  whose 
echoes  the  universe  shall  continue  to  take  up  and  reverberate 
for  ever.  Even  then  His  mind  was  full  of  a  purpose  conceived 
from  eternity — a  purpose  providing  the  amazmg  means  of 
human  salvation.  And  even  then  a  voice  was  heard  replying 
to  that  purpose,  "I  come  to  do  it— lot  I  come  to  do  i\\jiuill, 
0  my  God.  Thy  will  is  my  will— I  dehght  to  do  it— it  is 
within  my  heart."  And  that  voice  came  from  no  uncertain 
quarter— from  no  angel  ranks— it  came,  if  I  may  say  so,  from 
the  centre  of  the  Deity,  from  the  mysterious  depths  of  the 
Triune  God.  And  the  Vforld  was  spared  on  the  ground  of 
that  enc^ao-ement,  and  the  angels  of  God  held  themselves  in 


166         THE  SON  INCAENATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD. 

readiness  to  beliold  its  fulfilment ;  and  Judaea  was  j^repared 
to  be  the  theatre  of  the  great  transaction,  and  imnnmbered 
eyes  were  watching  for  His  coming,  and  unnumbered  interests 
depending  on  it. 

But  when  He  comes,  what  laws  will  He  obey? — what 
appearance  will  He  assume?  AVhat  laws?  the  very  laws 
which  man  had  broken.  What  appearance  ?  that  of  the 
very  nature  which  man  had  degraded.  And  when  the  fulness 
of  time  was  come,  a  body  was  prepared  Him — God  sent  forth 
His  Son,  made  of  a  woman,  made  under  the  law.  And  you 
know  what  He  proceeded  to  do.  All  the  powers  of  that  body 
He  placed  at  the  disposal  of  the  will  of  God.  Think  what 
He  found  man  doing  with  those  powers,  and  how  He  shewed 
what  might  be  done  with  them,  what  compassion  might  beam 
from  those  eyes,  what  grace  might  flow  from  those  lips,  what 
blessino's  midit  fall  from  those  hands,  and  how  He  thus 
convicted  the  human  will,  and  vindicated  the  ]\Iaker  of  that 
frame.  Mark,  again,  what  He  did  with  the  laws  and  objects 
of  nature ;  hoAv  He  shewed  that,  could  we  gain  the  whole,  it 
would  avail  us  nothing  if  we  employed  it  contrary  to  the  will 
of  God — that,  were  we  to  lose  the  whole,  or  to  have  only  a 
cup  of  cold  water  left,  that,  if  placed  at  the  disposal  of  the 
Divine  will,  would  fall  in  with  the  glory  of  God.  But  there 
were  other  laws  than  those  of  material  nature,  laws  essential 
to  the  spiritual  wellbeing  of  the  creature,  and  to  the  holy 
government  of  God,  and  He  had  come  from  a  world  where 
no  other  laAV  obtained.  But  here,  wherever  He  looked.  He 
found  himself  in  a  world  in  which  almost  every  law  obtained, 
except  this  ;  and  hence,  when  asked  to  teach  a  i:)rayer,  what 
could  He  teach  but  this  ? — it  was  the  only  object  for  which 
He  had  come  here — "  Thy  will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is  in 
heaven.''  But  was  not  this  a  hopeless  petition  ?  Ah,  little 
did  the  disci2:)les  know  what  an  answer  it  was  about  to  receive 
in  His  own  person  !  Little  did  they  imagine  the  mighty  pur- 
pose which  even  then  was  swelling  in  His  heart ;  for,  as  He 
said  it.  His  eye  was  fixed  on  the  place  of  sacrifice,  and  He 


THE  SON  INCAENATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD.    167 

himself  tlie  willing  victim,  was  advancing  towards  it !  But 
will  He  live  to  reach  it  ?  for,  see.  He  is  in  an  agony.  The 
dregged  and  bitter  cup  is  placed  before  Him ;  will  He  take 
it  ?  Is  there  no  possibility  of  its  passing  from  Him  ?  "  No,'' 
saith  He ;  "  not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou  wilt.'"  But,  see,  the 
worst  is  not  yet.  A  shadow  settles  on  His  soul.  "  My  God, 
my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?''  Can  He  endure  it? 
But  while  we  ask,  He  is  heard  adding,  "  It  is  finished  •"  and 
He  surrenders  His  life. 

Brethren,  in  that  event  the  will  of  God  was  done,  in  a  way 
in  which  it  was  never  done  before,  never  can  be  done  again. 
An  eternal  purpose  was  fulfilled,  and  the  whole  of  God's  pre- 
ceptive law  was  vindicated,  satisfied,  enthroned  in  the  eyes  of 
the  universe.  Considering  the  dignity  of  the  Being  vv^ho 
suffered,  had  He  only  signified  His  willingness  to  obey — yes, 
had  He  never  actually  come  into  our  world,  had  He  but 
verbally  signified  His  readiness  to  come,  should  His  coming 
be  necessary — even  that  would  have  reflected  greater  honour 
on  the  law  of  God,  which  He  was  thus  ready  to  obey,  than  it 
could  ever  receive  from  all  human,  all  angelic  obedience.  But 
that  He  should  literally  have  done  this — that  He,  the  second 
person  in  the  Trinity,  should  in  any  sense  have  come  forth  from 
the  Godhead — that  He,  who  had  known  no  necessity  but  that 
of  being,  and  of  being  what  He  was,  should  have  brought 
himself  under  obligation — that  He,  the  Creator,  should  range 
himself  in  a  line  with  His  own  creatures,  and  subject  himself 
to  His  own  laws — that  He  should  be  seen  by  the  universe  in 
a  station  of  obedience ;  who,  after  that,  can  refuse  to  obey  ? 
That  He  of  His  own  free  will  should  consent  to  serve — to 
suffer — what  creature-ioill  but  must  feel  constrained  to 
yield  ?  And  that  He  should  do  this  in  order  that  the  T\dll  of 
God,  as  prescribed  in  law,  might  not  go  unfulfilled — that  He 
should  find  glory  in  it — the  very  highest  glory,  in  this  volun- 
tary subordination  to  it ;  did  it  not  shew  earth  might  be  trans- 
formed into  heaven — did  it  not  stimulate  and  heighten  the 
obedience  of  angels — did  it  not  point  the  whole  intelligent 


168        THE  SON  INCARNATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD. 

universe  the  only  way  to  jDerfection — obedience  to  the  will  of 
God?  Yes,  by  His  obedience  unto  death,  the  will  of  God 
was  done  on  earth,  as  it  had  never  been  done  even  in  heaven 
— done  in  a  manner  which  makes  earth,  from  its  centre  to  its 
surface,  holy  ground — done  so  as  to  secure  the  means  of  con- 
verting even  this  sin-worn  world  into  a  loyal  province  of  the 
King  of  kings. 

IV. 

And  this  brings  us,  fourthly,  to  the  consideration  of  these 
means.  Do  you  ask  how  the  will  of  the  rebellious  world  is  to 
be  brought  back  into  harmony  with  the  will  of  God?  "  Not 
by  might,  nor  by  jDOwer  " — not  by  coercion  and  force ;  "  but 
by  my  Spirit,  saith  the  Lord  " — by  my  Spirit  taking  of  the 
things  of  Christ — taking  of  His  voluntary  obedience,  and 
shewing  that  He,  though  in  the  form  of  God,  made  Himself 
of  no  reputation — assumed  a  dependent  life  expressly  that  He 
might  be  able  to  obey  the  very  will  which  man  had  ruined 
himself  by  resisting ;  taking  of  His  love,  and  shewing  how 
He  wept  over  the  infatuation  of  our  disobedience — how  freely 
He  poured  out  His  blood,  in  order  that  the  law  might  not 
take  our  blood,  might  be  satisfied  without  it;  taking  of  His 
mediatorial  glory,  and  shewing  that  He  is  now  seated  on  a 
throne — seated  there  to  receive  our  submission,  to  welcome 
our  return,  to  place  us  once  more  in  harmony  with  the  will 
of  God,  and  to  assure  us  of  His  favour.  And,  in  this  way, 
the  Spirit  deals  with  our  will  as  will — not  compelling,  but 
influencing — not  forcing,  but  shewing  it  motives — affecting 
it  by  reasons,  and  enabling  it  to  feel  them. 

1.  Now,  do  you  not  see  that  when  the  luill  of  the  penitent 
is  secured,  the  whole  man  is  secured?  We  just  now  shewed 
that,  before  man  was  created,  the  will  of  God  was  done  here 
— that  is,  his  natural  will — involuntarily  by  material  laws 
and  objects ;  that  man  was  endowed  with  the  power  of  doing- 
it  voluntarily,  and  of  subjecting  his  material  body,  and  all 
the  objects  of  nature  to  the  same  service ;   but  that,  by  sin, 


THE  SON  INCARNATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD.  I G9 

he  had  not  only  withdraT\ai  his  mind  but  his  body,  and  all 
nature  also  as  far  as  he  could,  from  their  allegiance  to  God. 
But,  now,  the  recovery  of  the  will  is  the  recovery  of  all  the 
rest.  The  whole  man  returns.  His  will  cannot  come  back 
to  God  alone;  his  will  is  the  sovereign  part  of  his  nature; 
and  if  the  master-faculty  return  to  God,  all  the  rest  come 
back  with  it.  '  We  beseech  you,"  says  the  apostle,  "by  the 
mercies  of  God,  that  ye  present  your  bodies  a  living  sacrifice/' 
Your  souls  have  surrendered — your  wills  have  submitted; 
and  now,  therefore,  we  address  them — we  beseech  them,  by 
the  saving  mercies  of  God,  to  let  the  surrender  be  entire — to 
present  your  bodies  also.  And  can  the  renewed  and  obe- 
dient will  refuse?  What!  when  the  man  has  to  make  his 
way  back  to  the  long-forsaken  altar  through  a  road  of  mer- 
cies ?  What !  when  he  finds  that  altar  transformed  into  a 
cross;  and  on  that  cross  another  sacrifice— the  body  of  the 
Lamb  of  God;  can  he  hesitate  to  present  his  owa.  body  as 
a  living  sacrifice?  He  feels  it  to  be  a  reasonable  service. 
And  as  he  takes  the  living  off'ering  into  the  Divme  pre- 
sence, and  brings  back  with  it  his  property,  his  influence, 
his  all,  and  feels  that  the  whole  is  once  more  where  it 
should  be,  in  harmony  with  the  will  of  God — and  enjoj'-s 
the  delight  of  dedication  to  His  service,  spontaneously  the 
language  bursts  from  his  lips — "  I  delight  to  do  thy  will,  0 
my  God.'' 

2.  Here,  then,  is  a  willing  agent  for  God.  Wonderful  as 
was  the  creation  of  a  finite  will  at  first — wonderful  as  was 
the  introduction  into  the  universe  of  a  second  will — here  is  a 
greater  wonder  still, — the  recovery  of  a  lost  will  to  God — a 
will  which  had  been  led  captive  by  Satan  at  his  will,  set  at 
liberty,  and  restored,  and  once  more  moving  in  conformity 
with  God's  will.  What  if  he  could  prevail  on  other  wills  to 
unite  with  his  will — how  vastly  would  that  increase  his 
power  of  serving  God  1  Such  a  community  of  wills  often 
exists  for  other  purposes;  and  wherever  it  does  exist  few 
things  can  withstand  it — it  bears  everything  before  it.     But 


170         THE  SON  INCARNATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD. 

only  imagine  a  commnnity  of  wills  to  exist  in  relation,  not 
merely  to  some  particular  end,  however  good,  but  in  relation 
to  some  great  central  object  around  which  all  other  objects 
revolved,  and  to  which  they  were  subservient.  Conceive 
those  wills  to  be  moving  harmoniously  together,  not  merely 
towards  an  end,  however  good,  but  towards  the  end  for  which 
all  other  ends  exist,  and  exist  only  as  means.  Conceive  this 
community  of  created  wills  to  be  ever  moving  in  harmony 
with  the  central  and  supreme  will  of  God — to  regard  each  indi- 
cation of  His  will  as  the  loftiest  motive  for  their  wills — each 
movement  of  His  will  as  the  broad  and  open  path  of  freedom 
for  theirs ;  suppose  even  their  desires  to  be  accordant  vaih. 
their  luills,  so  that  in  uttering  the  language  of  the  one  they 
should  be  giving  expression  to  the  other — and  that  the  lan- 
guage most  expressive  of  their  united  and  highest  energy 
should  be,  "  Thy  will  be  done  " — thy  will,  as  the  only  means 
of  satisfying  our  wills — and  in  order  that  our  wills,  our  whole 
nature,  may  find  perfection.  What  a  sublime  spectacle  would 
such  a  scene  present ! — a  community  of  renewed  creatures,  of 
enfranchised  wills,  finding  the  very  perfection  of  haj)piness 
and  fi'eedom  in  the  perfection  of  obedience. 

Now,  this  is  simply  what  the  Christian  Church  should  be  ; 
and  here  are  the  human  means  by  which  the  world  is  to  be 
recovered  to  God.  The  individual  convert  is  not  to  live  to 
himself.  How  can  he,  when  the  means  of  his  redemption 
has  been  the  voluntary  sacrifice  of  the  Son  of  God  ?  How 
can  he,  when  he  is  no  longer  his  own,  for  he  is  bought  with 
a  price  ?  Henceforth  he  is  to  glorify  God  in  his  body,  and  in 
his  spirit,  which  are  the  Lord's.  And  how  is  he  to  do  this, 
but  by  living  for  the  same  great  purpose  for  which  the 
Saviour  died  ?  God  tuills  it ;  and  God's  will  is  now  become 
his  will.  Are  others  converted  by  his  means  ?  They  are  to 
unite  with  him  for  the  furtherance  of  the  same  puri^ose. 
God  luills  it;  and  they  are  now  His  willing  servants.  "With 
one  mind,  and  one  heart,"  they  are  to  glorify  God.  Do  they 
succeed  in  the  conversion  of  others  ?     Every  soul  brought 


THE  SON  IN  CAEN  ATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD.    171 

back  to  God,  is  to  be  an  addition  to  them.  God  loills  it; 
Christ  prays  for  it — "  that  they  all  may  be  one,  that  the 
world  may  believe  that  thou  hast  sent  me."  Do  they  pant, 
and  pray  for,  and  unitedly  will  the  recovery  of  the  entire 
world  ?  God  wills  it,  too — wills  that  "all  men  be  saved,  and 
come  to  the  knowledo;e  of  the  truth.''  So  that,  as  often  as 
they  go  into  the  presence  of  God  and  commune  with  Him 
on  the  great  topic  of  His  will  being  done  on  earth,  He 
unites  and  compacts  them  into  one  body,  sprinldes  them 
afresh  with  consecrating  blood,  assures  them  that  His  will 
and  theirs  are  one,  and  sends  them  forth  to  effect  it :  He 
comes  forth  with  them,  moves  where  they  move,  speaks 
through  them,  works  with  them — causing  them  to  triumph 
in  every  place. 

For  a  Church  thus  ready,  everything  is  ready;  their 
own  property  is  ready,  for  they  have  placed  that  at  God's 
disposal;  their  persons  are  ready,  for  their  bodies  are  at 
the  disposal  of  their  will,  and  their  will  is  in  harmony 
with  God's  will ;  their  fellow  members  are  ready,  for  they 
are  all  filled  with  the  same  purpose,  and  devoted  to  the  same 
end.  The  Spirit  is  ready — the  world  is  ready  ;  for  while  the 
Chmxh  is  saying,  Come,  the  Spuit  adds  his  power  to  the  call; 
and  every  one  that  hears,  obeys,  and  sends  on  the  message 
further.  Eor  such  a  Church,  all  nature  is  ready — the  very 
laws  of  matter,  which  man  had  pressed  into  the  service  of 
sin,  become  subservient  to  the  will  of  God.  AU  the  earth 
becomes,  for  such  a  Church,  a  magazine  of  rich  resources — 
its  silver  and  gold,  its  winds  and  waves,  its  labours  of  art 
and  discoveries  of  science,  its  toils  of  trade  and  changes  of 
empire — all  tell  on  the  great  result.  Was  not  this  their 
original  design  ? — is  not  this  their  ultimate  destination  ? 
"  All  things  are  by  him,  and  for  him."  His  Church  is  only 
bringing  them  back  to  Him.  For  this  He  has  been  waiting 
— waiting  for  a  willing  Church  ;  for  this  all  things  are  wait- 
ing and  ready.  We  ask,  then,  Is  this  the  state  of  the 
Christian  Church  ? 


172         THE  BON  IN  CAEN  ATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD. 

V. 

But,  before  proceeding  to  apply  and  enforce  the  subject, 
let  me  recapitulate.  "We  have  seen  that  every  intelligent 
creature  is  bound  to  do  the  will  of  God,  and  is  constituted 
to  find  happiness  in  doing  it ;  that  man  revolted,  j^erverted 
everything  which  had  been  given  into  his  hand,  and  exposed 
himself  to  destruction  ;  that  his  recoveiy  to  God  was  made 
possible  by  the  amazing  expedient  of  the  voluntaiy  substitu- 
tion and  sacrifice  of  the  Son  of  God,  and,  through  that,  by 
the  agency  of  the  renewing  Spirit  (the  one  atoning  for  his 
guilt,  the  other  liberating  and  restoring  his  will)  ;  and  that 
as  many  as  are  thus  "  made  free  from  sin,  and  become  the 
servants  of  God,"  are  thus  to  judge,  that  as  Christ  died  for 
all,  they  who  live  should  not  henceforth  live  unto  themselves ; 
that  they  should  henceforth  know  no  will  but  His,  but  live 
to  carry  out  the  purposes  of  His  atoning  death. 

On  two  points,  then,  the  will  of  God  is  clear :  first,  that 
all  the  redeemed  should  join  in  seeking  the  recovery  of  those 
who  are  still  in  revolt ;  and,  secondly,  that  as  to  the  manner 
of  doing  this,  it  should  be  in  imitation  of  the  devotedness  of 
Christ. 

The  question  naturally  arises,  then,  How  is  it,  if  the 
Divine  provision  be  all  complete,  and  the  sanctified  human 
means  so  well  understood — how  is  it  that  the  will  of  God  is 
not  universally  obeyed,  after  the  example  of  our  Saviour 
Christ  ?  Eighteen  hundred  years  have  elapsed  since  He  said, 
"  Lo,  I  come,"'  and  the  redemption  of  the  world  Avas  efiected. 
Has  the  world  since  then  been  converted,  and  again  apos- 
tatized ?— or,  has  the  Gospel  been  taken  to  the  world,  and 
imiversally  rejected  ?  No ;  wherever  it  has  been  taken,  it 
has  been  received  by  numbers.  How  then,  we  repeat,  is  the 
present  condition  of  the  world  to  be  accounted  for  ?  By  the 
state  of  the  Church. 

Brethren,  this  is  the  point  on  which,  for  a  few  moments,  I 
would  earnestly  press  you.      Whatever  the  doctrinal  heresies 


THE  SON  INCAENATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD.    173 

of  the  day  may  be — and  grievous  they  are — the  great  inacti- 
cal  heresy,  peculiar  to  no  one  denomination,  but  belonging,  in 
different  degrees,  to  all,  is  that  of  a  defective  zeal.  They  seem 
to  forget,  that  in  praying  that  the  will  of  God  may  be  done 
in  the  world,  they  are  presupposing  that  it  is  done  already 
in  the  Church.  They  forget  that  their  Master  could  say, 
"  ]\Iy  meat  is  to  do  the  mil  of  him  that  sent  me,  and  to  finish 
his  work '' — and  they  are  to  copy  His  obedience.  They  are 
content  to  obey  in  a  far  different  manner — only  at  times — 
or  in  a  spirit  of  rivalry,  or  with  reluctance.  And  so  long 
have  they  continued  thus,  that  they  have  almost  lost  the 
sense  of  obligation  to  obey  in  any  other  manner.  To  speak 
to  them  of  copying  the  devotedness  of  Christ,  is  regarded 
generally  as  fanatical,  and  the  thing  itself  as  impossible. 
They  are  content  to  copy  from  each  other — age  from  age, 
and  Church  from  Church— so  that  the  will  of  God,  as  Christ 
obeyed  it,  and  as  His  people  obeyed  it— even  as  to  the  sjnrit 
of  that  obedience — mean  two  widely  different  things. 

And  does  not  this  sufficiently  explain  why  the  will  of  God 
is  not  yet  triumphant  on  earth?  God  has  given  a  certain 
constitution  to  nature;  and  if  men  do  not  observe  the  laws 
of  that  constitution,  can  aught  but  failm-e  and  disappointment 
ensue?  ^Ye  hear  much  of  the  triumphs  of  modern  science; 
and  the  secret  of  the  whole  is,  that  men  have  come  to  find 
that  they  cannot  dictate  to  nature,  but  must  be  content  to 
learn  its  laws  from  itself  These  laws  are  just  God's  will 
concerning  the  operations  of  matter;  and  obedience  to  these 
is  the  lesson  of  humility  which  philosophy  has  had  to  learn. 
And  this,  brethren,  this  is  the  great  lesson  of  humility  and 
obedience  which  the  Church  has  to  learn  in  reference  to  the 
laws  of  the  kingdom  of  gTace.  This  is  the  great  discovery 
which  the  Christian  Church  has  yet  to  make— that  it  is 
only  by  ascertainmg  the  will  of  God,  and  then  abandon- 
ing itself  to  the  performance  of  that  will,  that  it  will  ever 
be  honoured  as  the  means  of  bringing  back  the  world  to 
obedience. 


17 4i        THE  SON  INCARNATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD. 

AYe  do  not  say  that  Christians  have  made  no  progress  in 
learning  this  great  lesson.  All  the  success  which  they  have 
achieved  of  late  years,  as  a  missionary  Church,  is  owing  to 
their  j^artial  obedience  to  the  will  of  God.  But  j^artial  obe- 
dience will  only  be  followed  by  partial  success.  The  same 
God  who  has  given  a  constitution  to  nature,  has  constituted 
His  Church  according  to  certain  laws,  and  has  made  its 
prosperity  to  depend  on  its  acting  in  harmony  with  these 
laws;  but  they  have  tried  to  obtain  the  prosperity  without 
the  obedience.  God's  will  is,  that  the  wellbeing  of  His 
people  should  depend  on  their  constant  aggressions  upon  the 
world  around  them ;  they  hoped  to  find  it  in  living  to  them- 
selves, and  they  failed.  God's  will  is,  that  the  Gospel  shoidd 
be  their  only  instrument  of  success ;  they  tried  compulsion, 
and  they  signally  failed.  God's  will  is,  that  they  should  be 
not  merely  active  in  His  cause,  but  that  they  should  form  a 
distinct,  spiritual,  devoted  community,  copying  the  obedience 
of  Christ :  they  have  been  trying — are  trying  still — whether 
less  will  not  do ;  whether  doing  it  in  a  manner  in  which  the 
world  can  join — can  even  compete  with  them — will  not 
suffice;  and  in  so  far  they  have  failed.  They  seem  to  forget 
that  a  want  of  compliance  with  the  will  of  God  is  a  part  of 
man's  original  disease — is  the  very  evil  under  which  the 
world  is  labouring — and  which  they  are  required  instru- 
mentally  to  remedy.  Surely  they  do  not  expect  to  reclaim 
the  world  from  its  wilfulness  while  they  themselves  are  doing 
their  o^Yll  will? 

But,  brethren,  deeply  as  we  are  convinced  that  the  Church 
is  not  alive  to  the  full  extent  of  its  missionary  obligations,  we 
believe  tliat  it  is  awaking,  and  will  yet  feel  them  more  than 
ever.  Doing  the  will  of  God  partially  has  involved  the  mis- 
sionary Church  in  its  present  straits;  Christians  are  gradually 
learning  that  doing  it  wholly  will  certainly  relieve  them. 
They  have  so  far  obeyed,  that  they  are  shut  up  to  the  neces- 
sity of  obeying  still  further.  God  has  quickened  them ;  and 
they  have  given,  and  prayed,  and  laboured  as  the  Church  had 


THE  SON  INCARNATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD.    175 

long  ceased  to  do.     Let  them  eopy  the  devotedness  of  their 
Lord,  and  the  work  will  be  done. 

Ask  you  for  motives  to  such  zeal?  They  come  from  every 
quarter — from  the  heights  above,  and  from  the  depths  below. 
They  come  in  every  form  of  pity  and  of  terror — of  gratitude 
and -command — of  heaven  and  of  hell.  So  numerous  are 
they,  that  you  will  die  before  you  can  have  numbered  them 
all.  So  weighty,  that  you  will  have  left  the  world  before  you 
have  felt  their  entire  force.  We  are  told  of  stars  whose  light 
has  not  yet  reached  the  earth ;  some  motives  there  are  whose 
influence  has  not  yet  been  felt  by  the  Church. ;  But  we  can 
tell  you  of  motives  which  some  have  felt,  and  by  which  they 
were  borne  on  in  the  service  of  God  through  a  martyrdom  of 
life  and  of  death. 

1.  Need  I  remind  you  that  one  of  these  motives  is  the 
sublime  truth — that  the  brightest  example  of  obedience  which 
heaven  now  contains  is  not  an  angel  form,  but  He  who 
"learned  obedience  by  the  things  which  he  suffered"?  He 
now  reigns  in  the  same  spirit  in  which  He  suffered.  Yes, 
His  throne  is  just  as  much  in  a  line  with  the  will  of  God  as 
His  cross  was.  While  receiving  the  homage  of  the  seraphim. 
His  language  still  is,  "  I  delight  to  do  thy  will,  0  my  God ! '' 
What  an  honour  is  thus  reflected  on  a  state  of  obedience — 
more  than  by  the  devotedness  of  all  heaven  besides!  What 
amazing  grace  that  this  obedience  should  be  rendered  for 
you,  that  you  may  share  its  rewards!  And  you  are  sharing 
them.  He  is  pleading,  and  you  are  heard.  He  is  officiating, 
and  you  are  enjoying  the  blessed  results.  Think  what  He  is 
doing  as  your  representative  there,  and  say,  what  ought  you 
to  be  doing  as  His  representatives  here?  He  is  doing  your 
will — answering  your  highest  requests — what  ought  not  you 
to  be  ready  to  do  in  obedience  to  His  will? 

2.  Need  I  remind  you,  as  another  motive,  what  a  theme 
it  is  we  have  to  obey  and  to  proclaim.  The  merest  despot 
finds  ready  instruments  to  do  his  will.  Even  when  his 
mandates  are  th,3  l^utchery  of  a  tribe — the  slaughter   of  a 


176        THE  SON  INCARNATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD. 

province — zealots  are  not  wanting  to  execute  the  sanguinary- 
task.  But  here  is  a  Sovereign  who  calls  for  agents  to  go 
forth  to  a  world  on  which  desi^otism  has  done  its  worst — 
Satanic  desj)otism,  leaving  no  soul  free — commissions  them  to 
burst  the  prison  door,  and  to  let  the  captive  free — to  smite 
the  idols,  and  to  shiver  the  chains  by  which  the  nations-  are 
bound  to  them — to  pierce  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death, 
and  to  proclaim  light  and  life  from  heaven — to  stand  at  the 
mouth  of  hell,  and  to  say  to  the  myriads  rushing  towards  it, 
"  We  have  seen,  and  do  testify  that  the  Father  sent  the  Son 
to  be  the  Saviour  of  the  world.''  And  shall  this  message  of 
life  be  delivered  with  indifference — this  office  be  reluctantly 
discharged  ? 

3.  For  think,  next,  of  the  hajopy  results  of  the  reception 
of  this  message,  as  compared  with  man's  present  state.  I 
will  not  remind  you  how  large  a  proportion  of  the  earth  now 
borders  on  hell — how  many  of  its  regions  in  Europe  are  still 
lost  to  God — ^how  many  of  its  lands  in  Asia,  from  Nova 
Zembla  to  Siam,  and  from  the  Dead  Sea  to  the  Eastern 
Ocean,  a  territory  containing  two-thirds  of  the  i^o^^ulation  of 
the  globe,  are  still  lost  to  happiness — how  large  a  portion  of 
Africa,  from  the  shores  of  Barbary  to  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope, 
and  from  the  Eed  Sea  to  the  Atlantic — and  how  much  of 
America,  three-fifths  of  its  vast  continent,  is  still  seeking  rest 
and  finding  none.  I  will  not  attempt  to  take  you  round  to 
its  idol-gods — call  you  to  listen  to  its  fearful  sounds — nor  to 
look  on  its  horrid  rites — nor  to  mark  how  all  its  struggles 
after  happiness  serve  but  to  aggravate  its  guilt,  and  to 
announce  its  misery.  I  will  only  remind  you  that,  like  the 
troubled  sea,  it  cannot  rest.  Laws  cannot  restrain  it — nor 
civilization  tame  it — nor  science  save  it.  Never,  till  re- 
claimed to  God,  can  it  find  its  proper  place,  nor  answer  its 
lofty  end.  But,  recovered  to  a  state  of  holy  obedience,  all  its 
long-festering  wounds  would  be  healed,  and  its  paradise  re- 
gained. Renewed  man  brought  back  into  harmony  with 
God, — everything  would  be  seen  returning  to  him — the  glory 


THE  SON  INCARNATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD.         177 

of  Lebanon  coming  to  liim — the  rams  of  Nebaioth  minister- 
ing to  bim — the  ships  of  Tarshish  discharging  their  gold  and 
their  incense  at  his  feet — and  lie,  taking  the  whole,  and 
laying  it  down  at  the  feet  of  God  !  What  a  world,  when  he, 
with  all  his  tribes  shall  be  seen  there  in  prostrate  and  adoring 
homage  !  What  a  world,  when  compared  with  its  all-per- 
vading light,  and  holiness,  and  peace — "  the  former  heavens 
and  earth  shall  not  be  remembered  nor  come  into  mind  I" 

4.  Think,  again,  how  some,  influenced  by  these  motives, 
have  copied  the  devotedness  of  Christ.  Smnmon  the  men 
who  counted  not  their  lives  dear  to  them  for  the  sake  of 
Christ ;  and  they  come  from  the  ranks  of  prophets  and 
ajDOstles,  of  evangelists  and  confessors,  of  reformers,  and 
martyrs  and  missionaries.  Tell  us,  ye  honoured  men  of  God, 
tell  us  the  secret  of  your  success.  But  you  need  not  repeat 
it.  One  of  your  number  has  already  disclosed  it.  You  "thus 
judged,  that  if  one  died  for  all,  then  were  all  dead ;  and  that 
He  died  for  all,  that  they  who  live  should  not  henceforth 
live  unto  themselves,  but  unto  Him  that  died  for  them,  and 
rose  again.''  And  thus  judging,  you  lived  accordingly.  But 
tell  us — in  pity  to  our  infirmities,  tell  us  this — had  you  not 
to  learn  the  devotedness  you  exliibited  ?  Were  you  long  in 
acquiring  proficiency  in  the  sacred  art  ?  Did  yoic  ever  think-, 
as  we  do,  that  self-denial  is  impossible?  We  admii^e,  and 
would  catch  your  spirit.  Did  you  not  find  a  state  of  entire 
devotedness  to  the  will  of  God  happier,  incomparably  happier, 
than  a  course  of  defective  obedience  ?  We  trust  we  have 
enough  of  your  spirit  to  feel  that  it  must  have  been  so.  From 
the  moment  your  devotedness  became  entire,  your  path  was 
clear.  Till  then,  you  were  often  thinking  what  bearing  events 
would  have  on  your  worldly  ease  and  relations ;  but  from 
the  moment  you  came  to  think  only  of  the  bearing  they  would 
have  on  the  glory  of  God,  your  difficulties  vanished.  Then 
you  could  glory  even  in  infirmities — then  j^ou  could  take  joy- 
fully even  the  spoiling  of  your  goods — then,  when  the  axe 
and  the  block  were  brought  out  and  laid  before  yom^  eyes, 


178        THE  SON  INCAENATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD. 

none  even  of  these  tilings  moved  you.  In  tlie  very  spirit  of 
Him  who  could  say,  when  the  death  of  the  cross  was  before 
Him,  "  Lo,  I  come  \"  yom^  language  was,  "I  am  now  ready 
to  be  offered  T"  And  in  proportion  to  your  zeal  was  your 
success.  -And  we  are  still  reaping  its  fruits,  and  glorifying 
God  in  you. 

5.  And  then  one  motive  there  is,  which  adds  force  and 
solemnity  to  every  other — the  fact  that  He  who  is  the  sub- 
ject and  substance  of  our  message,  on  leaving  the  world,  hath 
said,  "Behold,  I  come  quickly.''  These  were  His  parting 
words — this  the  last  sentence  of  His  revelation.  As  if  He 
would  ever  have  the  expectation  of  His  second  advent  fresh 
and  vivid,  the  last  accents  which  fell  on  the  ear  of  his  Church 
were  these — "Behold,  I  come  quickly  \"  Do  they  not  imply 
that  there  is  not  a  moment  to  be  lost  ?  Are  they  not  meant 
to  stimulate  the  lingering  progress  of  the  Church  into  activity? 
Do  they  not  intimate  that  the  eye  of  Him  who  uttered  them 
is  already  fixed  intently  on  the  goal,  and  that  He  counts  each 
moment  lost  which  does  not  bring  us  nearer  to  it  ?  "  Behold, 
He  cometh  ! " — cometh,  not  to  suffer,  but  to  judge — not  now 
to  offer  himself  up  as  a  sacrifice  for  sin,  but  to  determine 
what  effects  His  "  one  offering"  has  produced  on  us — whether 
it  has  melted  us  into  penitence  and  constrained  us  to  obe- 
dience, or  has  left  us  involved  in  more  aggravated  guilt. 
"  Behold,  He  cometh  ! "  and  what  though  no  distant  trump, 
no  flashing  S2)lendours  announce  His  approach — ^yet  still  He 
cometh,  and  every  eye  shall  see  Him.  Even  now  is  He  on 
the  way.  To  the  eye  of  faith,  even  now  He  is  advancing  on 
the  clouds  of  heaven,  with  power  and  great  glory — advancing 
to  do  the  will  of  God  in  the  judgment  of  the  world. 

Come,  then,  my  hearers,  and,  as  if  you  beheld  His  descend- 
ing glory,  let  each  one  ask  himself,  What  is  the  relation 
which  I  sustain  to  Him  ?  You  know  that  this  is  the  will  of 
God — the  duty  which  takes  priority  of  every  other — that  you 
believe  on  Him  Vvdiom  He  hath  sent.  Although,  therefore, 
you  could  point  to  His  altar  loaded  with  your  offerings,  it 


THE  SON  INCAENATE  TO  DO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD.    179 

would  avail  you  nothing  in  tlie  absence  of  a  living  faith.  He 
would  still  charge  you  ^^-ith  having  His  Gospel  beneath  your 
feet,  trampling  His  will  in  the  dust. 

And  you  who  through  grace  have  believed,  "Come,"'  says  the 
apostle,  and,  as  the  practical  ajoplication  of  this  subject,  "let 
us  provoke  one  another  to  love  and  to  good  works."  Come, 
my  fellow-Christians,  you  are  the  representatives  of  Christ  to 
the  world ;  what  Christian  grace  can  you  omit  to  exercise  ? 
You  are  the  agents  of  Christ ;  what  resources  can  you  dis- 
pense with  ?  You  are  the  blood-bought  servants  of  the  Son 
of  God;  what  part  or  property  of  your  nature  does  not 
belong  entirely  to  Him?  Christ,  a  self-sacrificing  Saviour, 
is  your  example ;  and  souls  smkmg  into  hell  are  the  objects 
of  your  concern ;  can  you  contribute  too  liberally,  pray  too 
earnestly,  labour  too  devotedly,  in  order  to  coj)y  that  example, 
and  to  save  those  souls  ?  And,  behold.  He  cometh  to  take 
an  account  of  your  stewardship.  A  brief  period  more,  and, 
behold,  He  will  have  come.  Let  your  stewardship  from  this 
day  be  of  a  nature  to  evince  your  fidelity,  and  to  answer  to 
the  sacredness  and  magnitude  of  His  claims. 


1 80  THE  FIELD  AND  HARVEST 


SERMON  YIII. 

THE  Fl  ELD  AND  HARVEST  OF  CHRISTIAN  LABOUR. 

John  iv.  34-38—"  Jesus  saith  unto  them,  My  meat  is  to  do  the  will  of  him 
that  sent  me,  and  to  finish  his  work.  Say  not  ye,  There  are  yet  four 
months,  and  then  cometh  harvest  ?  behold,  1  say  unto  you,  Lift  up  your 
eyes,  and  look  on  the  fields  ;  for  they  are  white  already  to  harv^est. 
And  he  that  reapetli  receiveth  wages,  and  gathoreth  fruit  unto  life  eter- 
nal ;  that  both  he  that  soweth  and  he  that  reapeth  may  rejoice  together. 
And  herein  is  that  saying  true,  One  soweth  and  another  reapeth.  I  scut 
you  to  reap  that  whereon  ye  bestowed  no  labour :  other  men  laboured, 
and  ye  are  entered  into  their  labours." 

^  fHi0si0nar2  Sermon  to  tlje  goun^* 

This  language,  you  perceive,  is  liigiily  figurative.  The  natural 
was  designed  from  the  first  to  suggest  and  shadow  forth  the 
spiritual.  The  analogy  between  the  two  is  not  accidental  or 
fanciful.  They  are  linked  together  by  an  inward  affinity — a 
preordained  relation.  Some  of  these  resemblances  are  so 
obvious,  that  every  civilized  language  commemorates  them. 
The  relation  of  agriculture  to  the  higher  process  of  human 
cultivation  is  so  grounded  in  this  deep-laid  analogy  between 
nature  and  spirit,  that,  in  picture-words,  proverbs,  or  parables, 
it  is  to  be  found  universally.  He  who  established  this  system 
of  analogies  knew  that  they  were  necessary — that  only  by 
means  of  the  visible  could  man  rise  to  the  invisible — that 
only  by  this  sensuous  ladder  could  his  angel- thoughts  ascend 
to  heaven.  The  natural,  then,  may  be  said  to  have  awaited 
the  commg  of  the  spiritual,   in  order  to  find  its  highest 


OF  CHRISTIAN  LABOUE.  181 

significance.  Now,  therefore,  that  He  who  had  made  nature 
had  come— now  that  He  who  knew  all  the  great  spiritual 
facts  enshrined   in   nature   and  underlying  its  commonest 

processes  had  come,  and  was  standing  in  the  midst  of  them 

they  may  be  said,  like  the  bending  sheaves  in  Joseph's  dream, 
to  have  done  Him  homage — to  have  pressed  forwards  for  His 
use,  and  to  have  asked  consecration  at  His  hands.  To  His 
eye  the  entire  scene  of  nature  and  of  life  was  one  great  fact, 
with  the  Divine  Idea  shining  through  it.  His  own  body, 
His  own  human  body  itself,  what  was  it  but  the  shrine  for 
the  Shekinah — the  embodiment  of  the  Invisible — the  great 
acted  emblem — God  manifest  in  the  flesh? 

What  wonder,  then,  that,  on  the  occasion  which  gave  rise 
to  the  text,  our  Lord  should  be  found  clothing  the  spiritual  in 
the  vestments  of  the  natural — training  His  disciples  to  con- 
ceive of  the  dignity  of  His  position  as  the  great  world-sower 
— helping  to  the  birth  the  new  thoughts  and  the  great  desires 
which  their  relation  to  Him  was  hkely  to  generate?  Though 
His  public  ministry  had  but  just  commenced,  He  had  already 
begun  to  appropriate  to  Himself,  not  merely  the  symbolism 
of  nature,  but  the  types  of  Judaism.  Already  had  John  the 
Baptist  pointed  Him  out  as  the  Lamb  of  God — the  only  real 
expiation — without  whom  the  world  would  never  have  had 
temple,  sacrifice,  or  priest.  Already  had  He  himself  gone 
into  the  temple — the  very  ark  and  home  of  the  types — and 
there,  in  the  presence  of  priest,  altar,  and  holiest  of  all,  had 
intimated  that  He  himself  was  the  only  reality  there — the 
Divine  Eeality,  of  which  they  at  best  were  only  signs. 

But  these  seeds  of  truth  had  fallen,  as  far  as  the  Pharisaic 
Jews  were  concerned,  among  thorns  and  briars.  A  kindlier 
soil  awaits  His  cultivation  in  Galilee.  For  the  present, 
therefore.  He  avoids  the  persecuting  spirit  of  Jerusalem,  and 
takes  the  shortest  road  to  Galilee — three  days'  journey — 
through  Samaria.  And  will  He  not  now  wait  till  the  end  of 
His  journey  before  He  resumes  His  instructions — especially, 
too,  as  He  will  have  none  to  address,  His  disciples  excepted, 


182  THE  FIELD  AND  HAEVEST 

but  hostile,  half-lieatlienisli  Samaritans?  No;  the  great 
Sower  has  gone  forth  to  sow,  and  He  must  needs  scatter 
seeds  of  life  even  by  the  waysides  of  Samaria.  As  He  entered 
the  fertile  valley  of  Shechem,  the  scene  was  alive  with  the 
different  processes  of  agricultural  activity,  Fatigued  with 
travelling — j^robably  from  early  morning,  and  it  was  now 
mid-day — He  stopped  to  rest  at  the  ancient  well  of  Jacob. 
He  had  sent  His  disciples  into  the  neighbouring  city  to 
purchase  food,  so  that  here  for  awhile  He  sat  alone — a  pilgrim 
on  the  world's  highway.  "  There  cometh  a  woman  of  the 
neighbouring  city  to  draw  water.  Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Give 
me  to  drink.""  And  you  know  what  ensued — how,  forgetting 
His  own  thirst.  He  sought  to  awaken  in  her  a  desire  for  that 
living  water  which  alone  can  quench  the  thirst  of  the  soul — 
how,  finding  her  unable  to  apprehend  His  spiritual  meaning, 
He  suddenly  turned  her  attention  within,  and,  as  if  already 
sitting  on  the  throne  of  judgment,  disclosed  to  her  the  secrets 
of  her  owai  history — how,  in  reply  to  her  v>^ondering  inquiries, 
He  proclaimed  the  sj^irituality  of  the  Divine  nature,  and  the 
universality  of  the  dispensation  about  to  be  introduced — and 
how,  filled  with  joyful  anticipations,  she  hastened  away  to  call 
others  to  share  the  w^onder  with  her.  You  remember  how 
His  discij^les,  on  returning,  found  Him  so  absorbed  in  thought 
that  the  calls  of  hunger  were  no  longer  heeded;  and  how,  as 
He  beheld  the  Samaritans  thronging  to  His  presence,  His 
language  shew^ed  that  His  mind  had  been  far  away  in  a  pro- 
phetic vision  of  the  world  sov*ai  over  with  truth,  and  fruitful 
in  holiness.  He  who  had  seen  nothing;  in  the  livino^  water 
but  a  symbol  of  the  life  which  He  had  come  to  impart — 
nothing  in  the  food  which  the  disciples  offered  to  His  ex- 
hausted frame  but  an  emblem  of  the  inward  refreshment  He 
enjoyed  from  doing  the  will  of  God — now  saw  nothing  in  the 
busy  scenes  of  the  pleasant  valley,  and  in  the  approaching 
crowd  of  the  Samaritans,  but  the  signs  of  a  glorious  harvest, 
of  which  He  was  beginning  to  sow  the  seed. 

But  then  came  the  thought  that  He  must  leave  the  earth 


OF  CHRISTIAN  LABOUR.  1 83 

before  the  liarvest-lionic ;  that  His  death  and  departure  were 
necessary  to  prepare  the  way  for  it.  The  relation,  therefore, 
in  which  his  apostles  would  stand  to  Him  was  that  of  reapers 
— He  being  at  once  the  seed  and  the  sower — the  self-sower 
— the  great  seminal  word  or  principle  of  life.  But,  besides, 
that  this  same  relation  exists  between  Christ  and  all  who 
take  up  and  carry  on  the  apostohc  labour,  in  a  subordinate 
sense  each  relay  of  labourers  stands  in  a  similar  connexion 
with  those  that  follow.  In  this  lower  sense,  indeed,  everij 
labourer  in  the  world's  field  reaps  the  fruit  of  those  who  liave 
preceded  him,  and  sows  for  those  who  come  after.  For 
though,  viewed  as  a  whole,  the  final  ingathering  has  yet  to 
come;  viewed  in  parts,  it  is  ever  receiving  comj)letion.  To 
each  generation  of  Christian  labourers  it  may  be  truly  said, 
"  Other  men  laboured,  and  ye  are  entered  into  their  labours."" 
My  dear  young  friends — (and  to  you  I  now  address  myself) 
— this  language  is  peculiarly  applicable  to  you — helongs  to 
you — as  the  last  who  have  entered  the  field  of  labour — some 
of  whom,  indeed,  are  only  now  in  the  act  of  entering  it. 
Sacred  is  the  ground  you  tread !  Glorious  is  the  succession 
in  which  you  stand !  Tried  and  consecrated  are  all  the  means 
you  are  called  on  to  employ!  Sublime  is  the  result  to  be 
attained!  Welcome,  youthful  fellow-labourers!  We  need 
your  co-operation ;  we  hail  your  accession !  In  the  hope  of 
confirming  your  purpose  and  engaging  the  consecration  of 
your  powers,  let  me  aim  to  shew  you  the  high  and  all-related 
position  you  are  called  to  occupy  in  the  field  of  Christian 
labour. 

I. 

And,  first,  let  me  call  attention  to  the  fact,  that  the  field 
of  which  we  speak  is  emphatically  a  sphere  of  Christian 
labour — a  field  in  v/hich  everything  sustains  a  supreme  rela- 
tion to  Christ.  Llany  a  hand,  indeed,  had  scattered  heavenly 
seed  in  it  prior  to  His  coming.  Noah  had  brought  across 
the  flood  the  germs  of  the  Patriarchal  faith — truths  more 


184  THE  FIELD  AND  HAEVEST 

precious  than  the  fruits  of  Paradise.  Judea,  too,  had  been 
set  apart  as  the  garden  of  the  Lord.  Cleared  of  its  ancient 
heathenism,  it  had  been  brought  under  Divine  cultivation. 
"  Truth  had  sprung  out  of  the  earth  '' — truth  more  healing 
than  the  balm  of  Gilead,  watered  by  dews  more  refreshing 
than  those  of  Hermon.  But  all  the  most  precious  of  these 
truths  related  to  Christ.  From  the  time  when  the  first 
promise  had  been  dropped  into  the  human  heart,  like  a  seed 
from  the  tree  of  life,  to  the  hour  when  John  called  the  peoj^le 
to  bring  forth  fruits  meet  for  repentance,  every  heaven-sent 
truth  was  a  messenger  commissioned  to  prepare  the  way  of 
the  Lord,  and  to  confirm  the  assurance  of  His  coming. 

Nor  had  this  Divine  cultivation  been  entirely  in  vain. 
Often  had  "  the  parched  ground  become  a  pool,  and  the  thirsty 
land  springs  of  water.  The  glory  of  Lebanon  had  been 
given  to  it,  the  excellency  of  Carmel  and  Sharon."'  Many  a 
life-ccivino;  truth,  too,  had  been  carried  to  a  distance,  like  a 
winged  seed,  and  had  germinated  in  other  lands.  Still, 
the  scene  which  now  stretched  before  the  eye  of  Christ 
was,  taken  as  a  whole,  covered  with  thorns  and  briers. 
You  remember  His  own  parabolic  descriptions  of  the 
state  of  Judea.  A  tree  cumbering  the  ground,  w^ith  an  axe 
ominously  lying  at  its  root,  was  its  fitting  emblem.  A  fig- 
tree  denounced  for  its  barrenness,  prefigured  its  doom.  Its 
fields  waved,  indeed,  but  it  was  only  with  tares.  And  it 
exhibited  a  show  of  fruit — but  "  its  vine  was  of  the  vine  of 
Sodom,  and  of  the  fields  of  Gomorrah ;  its  grapes  were 
grapes  of  gall,  its  clusters  were  bitter."  For  Him  who  had 
"  come  seeking  fruit,''  it  grew  nothing  but  wood  for  a  cross, 
a  sceptre-reed,  and  thorns  for  a  crown. 

Looking  beyond  the  confines  of  Judea,  the  wide  wastes  of 
heathenism  met  his  eye — a  world  of  spiritual  sterility.  Think 
of  the  dreary  aspect  the  earth  must  have  presented  on  the 
third  morning  of  the  creation-week,  when  the  dry  land  had 
only  just  upheaved,  and  the  fiat  which  was  to  clothe  it  wuth 
verdure  had  yet  to  go  forth.      Such  was  an  image  of  the 


OF  CHRISTIAN  LABOUR.  185 

world's  moral  barrenness.  Or,  worse  still,  its  condition  was 
one  not  merely  negative  of  good,  but  positively  evil.  Con- 
ceive, then,  of  the  earth,  with  all  its  waters  filmed  and 
greened  over  in  stagnant  putrescence,  and  all  its  rank  and 
matted  vegetation  exhaling  pestilence.  The  Scriptures  speak 
of  "  the  pollutions  of  the  world '' — Hterally,  the  miasmata  of 
the  world.  Every  substance,  say  some  j)hilosophers,  is  sur- 
rounded with  an  atmosphere  of  its  own.  The  world  was 
surrounded  with  an  atmosphere  of  moral  miasma,  self- 
exhaled — steaming  with  a  malaria  in  which  all  spiritual  life 
had  sickened  and  died — in  which  roots  of  bitterness  alone 
luxuriated,  and  attained  a  giant  growth.  Yes,  look  where 
the  Saviour  might,  the  unsightliest  parts  of  the  earth's  sur- 
face— its  dreariest  swamps  and  sternest  wilds,  its  impene- 
trable jungle  and  volcanic  desolation — did  but  represent  the 
hopeless  aspect  of  man's  moral  state. 

And  our  Lord  not  only  saiu  the  wide-spreading  desolation, 
He  knew  its  deep  necessities,  and  the  utter  insufficiency  of 
all  mere  human  remedies.  He  kncAV  the  ten  thousand  vain 
efforts  of  art,  science,  and  legislation  to  reclaim  the  sphitual 
waste.  He  knew  how  all  man's  systems  of  religion  had 
proved  fearful  aggravations  of  the  evil.  He  had  come  to  a 
world  wrecked  of  its  hopes,  and  whose  last  expedient  was 
exhausted.  Wherever  He  looked,  He  saw  scenes  of  human 
woe — scenes  in  which  the  only  objects  which  met  His  eye 
were  the  chains  of  captivity,  the  struggles  of  ]3overty,  the 
disappointments  of  ambition,  the  misgivings  of  the  self- 
righteous,  the  pains  of  superstition,  the  exhausted  efforts  of 
the  sinner  lashed  by  the  reproaches  of  an  angry  conscience, 
and  unable  to  escape  from  a  load  of  guilt.  Whenever  He 
listened,  He  heard  the  thickening  cries  of  misery — His  ear 
caught  a  sigh  or  a  sound  of  woe  from  every  habitation, 
every  breast  of  man — a  never-ebbing  tide  of  the  sounds  of 
anguish,  strife,  and  death.  And  as  He  looked  on  the  living- 
mass  of  misery,  heaving,  and  sm-ging,  and  travailing  in  pain 
together,  and  remembered  that  it  Avas  a  chained  and  a  laden 


186  THE  FIELD  AND  HARVEST 

power,  wrestling  witli  its  bondage,  striving  to  rise,  uttering 
a  cry,  though  without  thinking  of  a  listener,  yearning  after 
a  something  undefined,  and  which  He  knew  His  Gosjoel 
alone  could  suj^ply — He  felt  that  its  every  sigh  and  struggle 
was,  in  effect,  an  instinctive  appeal  that  He  would  hasten 
the  work  of  deliverance. 

But  how  will  He  meet  the  deep  necessity  ?  For  it  is  a 
case  beyond  the  reach  of  mere  teaching.  The  world  wants 
not  a  system,  but  deliverance ;  not  a  mere  method  of  deliver- 
ance, but  a  deliverer — a  j)ersonal  redeemer — a  being  who, 
taking  a  survey  of  man's  spiritual  wants,  can  meet  them  all 
— can  take  humanity  into  his  embrace,  and  invite  it  to  cast 
itself  on  his  beating  heart  for  repose.  How  will  He  meet 
this  exigence?  You  remember  the  Godlike  manner  in  which 
He  replied  to  the  inquiry,  "  Art  thou  he  that  should  come, 
or  do  we  look  for  another?"  He  answered  not  in  words — 
entered  into  no  argumentative  defence  for  His  claims.  "  In 
that  same  hour,''  it  is  said,  "  he  cured  many  of  their  infir- 
.mities,  and  j^l^'ig^^es,  and  evil  spirits,  and  unto  many  that 
were  blind  he  o;ave  sio^ht.  Then  said  Jesus  unto  them.  Go 
your  way,  and  tell  John  what  things  ye  have  seen  and 
heard."  This  is  God's  ordinary  method  of  affirming  His 
eternal  power  and  Godhead  in  nature — by  the  things  which 
are  seen.  And  now  that  He  hath  become  manifest  in  the 
flesh,  He  continued  His  own  ordinary  method.  His  words 
were  deeds — His  deeds,  wonders — His  wonders,  mercies. 
And  as  you  see  Him  preparing  for  the  reception  of  John's 
messengers,  by  surrounding  Himself  with  a  mass  of  misery, 
disease,  and  death — and  as  you  behold  Him  reply  to  their 
inquiry  by  breathing  upon  the  mass,  and  creating  it  anew — 
you  behold  an  emblem  of  His  mode  of  answering  the  world's 
great  questions  respecting  His  power  to  save.  Each  sej)arate 
aspect  of  the  world's  condition  uttered  its  ovai  anxious 
inquiry — challenged  Him  to  the  proof  of  His  power.  As 
guilty;  its  every  j^ang  was  a  messenger  which  asked,  "  Canst 
thou  make  it  i)ossible  for  a  lioly  God  to  forgive  us?"     As 


OF  CIIEISTIAN  LABOUR.  187 

polluted^;  its  every  consciousness  of  self-loatliing  inquired, 
"Canst  thou  renew,  restore,  lift  us  to  God?  Hast  thou  the 
Spirit  of  God?''  As  immortal;  its  every  foreboding  said, 
"Hast  thou  the  keys  of  the  invisible  world?  Canst  thou 
give  us  life  unendmg?"  The  questions  came  up  in  the 
earnest  multitudinous  tones  of  a  lost  race — a  race  self-sen- 
tenced already,  and  only  awaiting  the  final  Amen  of  the 
Divine  sentence.  And  you  know  how  He  proceeded  to  reply. 
It  was  not  a  case  for  words.  It  demanded  Godlike  deeds. 
And,  first,  He  put  on  the  very  nature  that  needed  redemp- 
tion. And  He  came  and  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  ruined 
race,  and  made  their  cause  His  own.  One  sacrifice  was 
necessary,  and  He  offered  it.  One  agency  was  necessary,  and 
He  secured  it.  One  ground  and  proof  of  immortality,  and 
He  furnished  it.  "The  hour  is  come,''  said  He — as  he 
girded  himself  up  for  the  great  redeeming  act — "  the  hour 
is  come ;  verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  Except  a  corn  of  wheat 
fall  into  the  ground  and  die,  it  abideth  alone ;  but  if  it  die, 
it  bringeth  forth  much  fruit."  And  He  died.  He,  the  germ 
of  all  life,  descended  into  the  earth.  Solemn  is  the  aspect 
of  the  fields  during  the  interval  between  the  sowing  of  the 
seed  and  the  first  springing  of  the  blade — a  scene  of  apparent 
desolation  and  death.  How  unutterably  solemn,  then,  was 
the  moral  aspect  of  the  earth  during  the  time  that  Christ 
was  silent  in  its  bosom  !  Imagine  that  we  could  now  point 
to  a  planet  and  say,  "  There,  in  that  planet,  lies  entombed 
the  Son  of  God  !"  Would  it  not  assume  the  appearance  of 
a  great  moving  sepulchre — the  very  hearse  of  the  universe  ? 
And  yet  our  earth  became  for  a  time  the  grave  of  the  great 
Life-giver — moved  through  space,  carrying  in  its  bosom  tlie 
Principle  of  Life.  Oh,  had  man  known  the  magnitude  of  the 
interest  at  stake,  during  that  time  every  sound  on  earth  would 
have  been  hushed  in  anxious  suspense;  and,  when  it  was 
over,  and  the  great  Principle  of  Life  emerged,  every  object 
might  well  have  commenced  an  utterance  of  joy  never  to  be 
silenced  again  !     If  His  incarnation  was  the  great  birth  of 


188  THE  FIELD  AND  HARVEST 

time,  His  resurrection  Vv^as  the  great  birtli  of  eternity.  Earth, 
hitherto  the  grave  of  mortality,  *  became  the  seed-plot  of 
immortality!  He  could  hardly  be  said  to  have  jyreaclied 
salvation,  when,  lo,  the  world  awoke  to  find  that  He  had 
actually  jjroci/rec?  it !  Of  the  plan  of  redemption  He  had  said 
little;  but  men  looked,  and,  behold.  He  had  accomplished  it! 
He  had  been  the  Gospel,  and  had  made  it — supplied  all  its 
facts,  furnished  all  its  materials.  So  little  had  He  said 
beforehand,  that,  with  His  deatli,  all  hope  seemed  at  the  point 
of  extmction;  but  so  much  liad  He  done,  that  thousands  since, 
in  every  age,  have  been  exploring  without  exhausting  it. 

Henceforth,  the  world  was  to  become  one  wide  scene  of 
Christian  labour.  "  For  for  this  cause  Christ  both  died,  and 
rose,  and  revived,  that  He  might  be  Lord  both  of  the  dead 
and  of  the  living '' — that,  having  provided  the  means  of  the 
world's  res-eneration,  He  miiiht  direct  and  combine  the 
eneroies  of  all  His  servants  to  that  end;  that  no  Christian 
man  might  live  and  work  alone  and  apart,  but  might  augment 
the  value  of  his  labours,  and  be  cheered  in  their  prosecution, 
by  finding  that  he  belongs  to  a  vast  confederation.  "  Where- 
fore, God  also  hath  highly  exalted  him,  and  hath  given  to 
him  a  name  which  is  above  every  name,  that  at  the 
name  of  Jesus  every  knee  should  bow;'' — that  the  world's 
maoi,  humble  in  their  wisdom,  should  recomise  His  star 
and  bow  at  His  feet — that  the  world's  Samaritans,  heretic  in 
head  but  orthodox  at  heart,  should  say,  "  We  have  heard 
Him  ourselves,  and  know  that  this  is  indeed  the  Christ  the 
Saviour  of  the  world;" — that  the  world's  Greeks,  inquiring, 
earnest,  unsatisfied  spirits,  should  come  saying,  "  We  would 
see  Jesus;" — that  the  world's  centurions,  honest-hearted 
children  of  nature,  smiting  upon  their  breasts,  should  say, 
"  Truly,  this  is  the  Son  of  God  ! " — that  the  world's  rationalists, 
like  Thomas,  should  surrender  their  doubts  and  their  souls 
with  the  exclamation,  "  My  Lord,  and  my  God ! " — that  every 
rival  power,  every  false  religion,  every  idol  god,  should  be 
summoned  in  His  name,  and,  as  it  falls  from  its  throne. 


OP  CHEISTIAN  LAEOUE.  189 

should  siirrendcr  to  Him  its  pretended  majesty  and  i:>ower; 
— tlicat  every  scattered  ray  of  liglit  should  be  woven  into  the 
many  cromis  which  are  on  His  head,  every  wreath  of 
incense  the  world  exhales  be  collected  into  the  censer  of 
homage  offered  to  Him; — that,  "instead  of  the  thorn  should 
come  up  the  fir-tree,  and  instead  of  the  brier  should  come  up 
the  myrtle-tree,  that  it  might  be  to  Him  for  a  name,  for  an 
everlasting  sign,  that  should  not  be  cut  off/' 

II. 

Now,  secondly,  this  is  a  field,  in  the  cultivation  of  which 
all  the  labourers  are  connected  and  continuous — "  one  soweth 
and  another  reapeth/'  They  had  need  to  be  so ;  for  it  is  a 
work  for  all  time.  The  original  command  respecting  the 
earth's  natural  cultivation — "  replenish  the  earth,  and  sub- 
due it,  and  have  dominion  over  it '' — implied  similar  con- 
tinuity and  effort — and  is  yet  unfulfilled.  In  each  instance, 
man,  in  his  indolence,  would  doubtless  have  fain  had  the 
work  accomplished  /o?'  him  ;  and,  in  his  impatience,  would 
have  had  it  accomplished  at  once.  "  But  my  thcuahts  are 
not  your  thoughts,  saith  the  Lord.''  By  the  present  arrange- 
ment, man  finds  his  own  welfare  while  seeking  the  good  of 
others — finds  the  dignity  of  the  individual  in  the  union  of 
the  race — and  finds  in  the  dependence  of  the  whole  upon 
God,  the  secmity  of  human  happiness,  and  the  attainment  of 
the  Divine  glory. 

Your  own  character,  dear  young  friends,  is  not  the  forma- 
tion of  a  day,  nor  of  a  single  influence.  A  thousand  seeds 
have  germinated  in  it  akeacly,  each  cast  in  by  a  different 
hand.  The  product  of  these  has  been  re-so^vn  there  ao-ain 
and  again.  Your  character  of  to-day  is  the  summation  of 
all  your  conscious  past. 

There  was  a  time,  too,  when  this  country  had  yet  to  be 
discovered.  Think  what  a  chain  of  labourers  must  Lave  been 
at  work  here,  from  the  time  when  the  first  tree  of  the  wilder- 
ness was  cut  down,  before  we  could  have  reached  the  present 


190  THE  FIELD  AND  HARVEST 

2:»oi]it  of  civilization.  And  still  the  work  is  only  in  progress. 
Wliicli  of  our  meclianical  inventions  is  completed  ?  Society 
is  in  tlie  midst  of  a  great  unfinished  fabric.  Literally,  most 
of  the  great  buildings  of  Europe,  though  begun  ages  ago,  are 
still  incomplete.  And,  if  science  be  a  temple,  it  will  be  found 
that  it  is  still  rising ;  and  that,  though  the  workmen  may  at 
times  have,  been  inclined  to  thwart  and  to  depreciate  each 
others  i^articular  labours,  yet,  without  any  preconcerted 
scheme  of  theirs,  the  hewn  and  sculptured  stones  which  they 
bring  from  their  respective  quarries  only  need  to  be  put 
to2:ether,  in  order  to  shew  that  there  is  one  mind  which 
superintends  the  whole.  If  civilization  be  a  j^yramid,  the 
first  stone  was  laid  before  man  had  yet  trod  the  banks  of  the 
Nile ;  and  though  every  age  has  seen  it  advance  in  some 
part,  its  head  still  rises  higher.  The  guesses  of  one  age 
become  the  settled  convictions  of  the  next.  Discoveries  link 
on  to  each  other.  Copernicus,  Galileo,  Kepler,  Newton — 
here  is  a  chain  of  mind — a  single  line  of  descent.  Art  prac- 
tises, science  deduces  the  laws  of  the  practice,  philosoj^hy 
exjiounds  and  theorizes  the  whole,  and  so  j)i'e23ares  for  a 
wider  application  of  the  art.  And  thus  the  great  ^\?i\\  evolves 
from  age  to  age.  "  The  present  is  the  child  of  the  past,  and 
the  mother  of  the  future." 

Similarly,  the  movements  and  instrumentalities  of  the 
Church  are  embraced  in  one  all-connecting  j^lan.  A  i^rin- 
ciple  of  unity  pervades  the  entire  scope  of  Divine  revelation 
from  the  Fall  to  the  coming  of  Christ.  ]Man,  made/o?-  God, 
and  to  be  redeemed  hy  Him,  is  the  great  truth  which  con- 
nects and  gives  continuity  to  the  whole.  And  this  unity, 
reflected  from  the  mind  of  God  in  His  word,  is  found 
responded  to  in  the  history  of  the  world  without.  Nothing 
that  belonged  to  the  jDast  economy  existed  for  itself  alone. 
The  long  succession  of  i)ro]3hets,  standing  like  a  line  of  light 
along  the  darkness  of  ages,  "  prophesied  of  the  grace  that 
should  come  unto  us."  Every  prediction,  and  every  type, 
every  voice  from  the  oracle,  and  every  victim  bleeding  before 


OF  CHRISTIAN  LABOUR.  191 

the  altar,  together  with  every  event  apjiarently  insulated  and 
adverse,  belonged  in  reality  to  a  system  which  looked  on  to 
the  future  for  its  meaning  and  its  value.  In  tliis  sense,  the 
Saviour  came  to  a  world  prepared  for  Him,  and  awaiting 
Him.  ]\Iany  a  system  pretending  deliverance  had  preceded 
Him,  but  had  to  fight  its  Avay,  or  to  force  a  place  for  itself — 
for  no  place  had  been  provided  for  it — and  as  such  it  was 
doomed  to  perish.  But  Christ  came,  not  to  destroy,  but  to 
fulfil — to  interpret  all  that  was  spiritual  in  the  past — to  take 
up  man's  fallen  hopes — to  shew  that  He  himself  was  the 
world's  great  want,  by  actually  meeting  its  exigence.  He 
came  into  a  world  of  bleeding  altars,  to  offer  Himself  up  once 
for  all.  He  entered  into  the  tem2)le,  to  absorb  the  types,  to 
rend  the  veil,  and  to  lead  the  worshippers  close  to  the  mercy- 
seat.  He  ascended  a  vacant  throne,  to  give  repentance  and 
the  remission  of  sins.  Throudi  Him  the  world  then  began 
to  reap  all  ilidit- others  had  sown.  Not  a  seed  had  been  lost. 
No  man  had  lived  unto  himself.  The  work  had  survived  the 
workman.  Things  which  had  failed  of  man's  particular  aims 
had  subserved  God's  general  plan.  Nothing  excellent  had 
perished.  A  line,  drawn  by  an  unseen  hand,  had  circum- 
scribed and  saved  the  whole. 

But  more;  not  only  are  this  connexion  and  continuity 
traceable  alike  in  the  field  of  civilization  and  of  relioion,  the 
former  exists  for  the  latter,  the  material  for  the  spuitual,  and 
is  comprehended  within  it.  We  err,  dear  young  friends — we 
do  injustice  to  the  great  scheme  of  the  world's  recovery,  if  we 
look  at  it  only  in  parts  and  fragments.  The  philosoj)her  of 
nature  acts  far  more  wisely  with  his  subject,  for  he  views  it 
in  its  general  laws.  If  you  point  him  to  an  apparent  excep- 
tion to  these  laws,  he  tells  you  that  it  is  apparent  only,  that 
the  instance  falls  under  a  yet  higher  law,  that  nature  is  a 
whole;  and  thus  he  not  merely  saves  its  character,  but  exhibits 
its  majesty.  If  he  be  a  sceptic  in  rehgion,  nearly  all  the 
faults  he  has  to  find  with  it  are  such  as  arise  from  his  look- 
ing at  it  in  parts,  from  not  viewing  it  as  he  does  his  favourite 


192  THE  FIELD  AND  HARVEST 

nature,  as  a  connected  scheme.  Let  him  only  reverse  his 
treatment  of  the  two  subjects,  and  he  would  reverse  their 
aspects  ;  nature  would  then  appear  to  be  exceptional,  frag- 
mentary, a  mass  of  mystery  and  contradiction,  while  revela- 
tion would  rise  on  his  view  sunlike,  a  law-pervaded  and  a 
light-pervaded  whole.  Better  would  it  be,  however,  that  he 
should  view  each  as,  in  a  sense,  entire  in  itself  Best  of  all, 
that  he  should  ascend  to  a  loftier  point  of  view,  where,  in  the 
light  of  truth,  he  would  see  the  two  become  one,  the  natural 
waiting  on  the  spiritual,  and  finding  its  highest  value  in 
yielding  it  service. 

Let  him  not  object  that  the  laws  of  the  spiritual  and  the 
j)rovidential  are  less  clear  and  traceable  than  are  those  of  the 
natural  world.  He  knows  full  well,  if  he  knows  anything  on 
the  subject,  that  even  in  the  material  world,  his  laws  hide 
themselves  in  mystery  just  in  proportion  to  their  generality 
and  their  power.  Heat,  light,  gravitation,  electricity — are 
they  not  impalpable,  imjjonderable,  mysterious  ?  and  yet  are 
they  not  among  the  all-pervading  and  ultimate  forces  of 
nature?  Analogy,  then,  would  seem  to  require  that  any 
power  superior  to  these  should  be  proportionally  more  recon- 
dite— that  any  law  5?/j:)ernatural  and  com23rehending  these 
should  be  proportionably  more  difficult  to  trace.  Not  only 
is  the  mystery  comjMtiUe  v/ith  the  fact,  but  an  evidence  in 
its  behalf 

And  in  affirming  the  subordination  of  the  natural,  the 
social,  and  the  civil,  to  the  spiritual,  what  are  we  saying  but 
that  the  inferior  should  serve  the  superior  ?  Of  all  the  prin- 
ciples of  powers  which  move  society,  the  mightiest  are  those 
which  partake  of  a  moral  nature.  They  appeal  to  all  that  is 
most  profound  and  central  in  our  nature.  They  draw  to 
themselves  the  depth  and  mass  of  our  being.  They  are 
greater  than  mere  thrones.  They  are  themselves  princi- 
palities and  powers.  He  that  has  them  is  mightier  than  all 
men  that  have  them  not.  They  enlist  in  their  behalf  the 
spiritual  and  untiring  part  of  humanity,  that  part  which 


OF  CHRISTIAN  LABOUR.  193 

c<annot  he  fatigued — wliicli  needs  no  pause — allows  no  truco 
— entails  its  cause  from  generation  to  generation. 

Now,  the  Bible  not  only  affirms  this  subordination  of  every 
other  kingdom,  natural  and  human,  to  the  kingdom  of  God,  it 
records  the  proofs  of  it.  It  conducts  us  to  a  point  from  which 
we  can  survey  the  course  of  history  of  more  than  four  thou- 
sand years.  In  the  light  of  its  guidance  we  see  nations  the 
most  selfish  and  unwieldy,  unconsciously  acting  as  His  "rod," 
His  "  sword,'"  parts  of  the  machinery  of  His  providence.  We 
see  events  the  most  unmeaning  suddenly  lighted  up  with  a 
Divine  significance — agents  the  most  obscure,  and  insulated, 
and  remote,  called  and  invested  with  a  commission  from 
heaven — elements  the  most  feeble  and  imperfect,  gradually 
rising  into  importance  and  taking  their  j^lace  as  recognized 
powers — forces  the  most  hostile,  yielding  involuntary  tribute 
— the  wrath  of  man,  not  his  faith,  his  obedience,  his  humility, 
but  the  very  wrath  of  man,  his  worst  passions  armed  and 
raging,  made  to  praise  God,  to  yield  notes  which  reach  the 
skies  only  to  blend  with  the  song  of  the  seraphim.  We  see 
an  entire  people  ever  revolting  and  wandering,  and  yet  never 
allowed  to  j^ass  beyond  the  lines  of  a  given  plan — we  see  that 
in  that  comprehensive  plan  every  useful  agent  had  his  post 
assigned,  every  adverse  event  its  hour  foreknoTm.  And  yet 
we  see  that  the  whole  series  was  so  forelaid  that  the  moral 
freedom  of  no  accountable  being  was  violated — that  an  act 
apj^arently  the  most  incidental,,  was  yet  in  harmony  with  the 
determinate  counsel  and  foreknowledge  of  God — that  the  deed 
which  consummated  human  guilt,  consummated  at  the  same 
time  the  Divine  purpose  of  human  redemption.  Vv^ho,  after 
that,  can  cjuestion  the  all-subordinating  and  all-employing 
nature  of  God's  great  scheme  for  man's  recovery  ?  Was  it 
not  one  of  the  designs  of  that  event  to  teach  the  fact  ? 

Eut,  as  if  to  set  the  question  entirely  and  for  ever  at  rest, 
no  sooner  could  our  Lord  say,  in  His  mediatorial  capacity, 
"All  power  is  mine,"  than  He  added,  "Go,  preach  the  gospel 
to  every  creature ; ''  intimating  that  tlic  use  which  He  pro- 


194)  THE  FIELD  AND  HAEVEST 

poses  to  make  of  all  power  is  to  promote  tlie  ends  for  wliicli 
He  died.  As  if,  liavino-  entered  tlie  spacious  treasury  of  God, 
and  taking  account  of  all  its  resources — ^having  reckoned  up 
all  the  agencies  at  His  disposal,  and  marked  their  respective 
capacities  for  His  service — having  looked  down  through  all 
the  ages  of  time,  counted  its  generations,  and  numbered  its 
events — He  had  said,  "  All  these  shall  be  harmonized,  com- 
bined, and  made  contributory  to  the  one  object  of  human 
salvation/'  And  the  course  of  the  world's  history  ever  since 
can  be  understood  only  as  it  is  read  in  the  light  of  this  media- 
torial purpose.  Ever  since  the  Gospel  was  brought  to  our 
own  land,  the  history  of  Britain,  pro2)erly  understood,  is 
only  the  history  of  the  Gospel  struggling  for  its  right  place 
and  power  among  us.  It  may  be  quite  true,  as  it  is  said, 
that  only  one- third  of  the  seed  which  the  husbandman  casts 
into  the  earth  springs  up  again.  But  infallibly  true  it  is, 
that  not  a  single  seed  sown  by  the  Christian  labourer  ever 
perishes  absolutely.  In  the  very  act  of  sowing  outwardly, 
he  is  sowing  inwardly,  too  ;  and  even  if  the  former  fail,  the 
latter  will  be  certainly  productive  of  fruit.  Though  he  may 
see  no  immediate  product,  tlie  sowing  of  one  age  may  be  the 
harvest  of  the  next.  He  may  close  his  career  at  the  stake  or 
the  block,  but  the  very  blood  of  the  martyrs  is  the  seed  of 
the  Church.  A  Wycliffe's  bones  may  be  disinterred,  and 
their  ashes  scattered  to  the  winds  of  heaven ;  but  before  he 
has  yet  descended  to  the  grav.e,  the  youthful  Huss,  growing 
up  in  an  obscure  village  of  Bohemia,  is  divinely  preparing  for 
the  subsequent  reception  and  dissemination  of  his  views. 
Huss  himself  may  die  a  martyr's  death  ;  but,  a  century  later, 
and  Luther  shall  be  hispired  by  his  example,  and  shall  surpass 
his"^  laljours.  There  is  no  break  in  the  chain,  no  rupture  in  the 
continuity  of  events  leading  to  the  one  result — the  restoration 
of  man  to  God.  Aim  at  this,  and  you  stand  in  a  noble  suc- 
cession— you  walk  in  a  consecrated  path — you  move  v/ithin 
the  limits  of  a  Divine  plan.  Labour  here,  and  you  work 
within  a  circle  of  which  the  Cross  is  the  centre — you  reap  in 


OF  CHRISTIAN  LABOUR.  11)5 

a  field  wliere  Christ  himself  hath  been  the  sower — you  become 
labourers  together  with  God — and,  therefore,  associated  Avith 
interests  too  momentous  to  fail,  with  efforts  too  great  and 
sacred  to  be  denied  success,  with  ends  and  purposes  dating 
from  one  eternity  and  embracing  another, 

III. 

But  if  the  Christian  labourers  are  thus  connected  and  con- 
tinuous, it  follows,  thirdly,  that  we,  in  the  present  day,  in 
carrying  out  their  labours,  inherit  peculiar  facilities  and 
advantages.  And  we  do  so.  "Others  have  laboured,  and 
we  have  entered  into  their  labours.''  -We  stand  as  in  the 
midst  of  a  waving  corn  field.  Time  was  when  the  seed  had 
not  yet  been  cast  into  the  ground,  v/hen  the  ground  itself 
was  a  wilderness,  when  the  wilderness  resounded  only  to  the 
howl  and  the  roar  of  beasts  of  prey. 

I  have  already  glanced  at  the  state  of  the  world  when  the 
Divine  missionary — the  Eedeemer  himself — ^was  here.  And 
I  have  observed  that  His  words  v>^ere  chiefly  acts.  Look  at 
His  conduct,  as  described  in  the  context,  in  this  light,  and 
you  will  see  how  immensely  the  Gospel  has  moved  the  world 
on  since  then.  Why,  for  example,  did  the  Saviour  send  His 
disciples  to  buy  bread  of  the  Samaritans  ?  For  the  Jews  had 
no  dealings  with  the  Samaritans,  and  their  mutual  hostility 
was  only  a  samj^le  of  the  general  state  of  things.  Nation 
stood  frowning  against  nation  all  the  world  over.  Such 
hostility  was  deemed  as  good  as  religion — was  religion. 
Even  Celsus,  in  the  second  century  after,  adduced  it  as  a 
conclusive  argument  against  the  Gospel,  and  as  enough  to 
prove  the  madness  of  its  Author,  that  it  j^rojoosed  to  do  away 
with  this  hostility — that  it  actually  dreamt  of  uniting  Greeks, 
Lybians,  barbarians — all  men  to  the  ends  of  the  earth — in  the 
reception  of  one  and  the  same  doctrine.  If  asked,  then,  for 
an  explanation  of  our  Lord's  conduct  on  this  occasion,  in 
sending  His  disciples  to  the  Samaritans,  and  in  abiding  with 
them  for  a  time  Himself,  I  reply  that  it  was  j^artly  to  j)rotest 


196  THE  FIELD  AND  HAEYEST 

against  this  alienation  of  race  from  race — to  ignore  all  social 
distinctions,  excej^t  those  arising  from  wisdom  and  folly, 
righteonsness  and  iniquity — to  announce  the  unity,  the 
brotherhood  of  the  human  race — to  jDroclaim  that  all  men 
are  blood  relations.  Yes,  here  you  behold  Him  in  the  act 
of  sowing  the  first  seed  of  this  great  world-uniting  truth; 
preparing  the  way  for  the  sublime  commission,  "  Go,  preach 
my  Gospel  to  every  creature  under  heaven/' 

I  need  not  tell  you  of  the  lov/  estimate  which  heathenism 
formed  of  woman — how  it  degraded  her  from  her  social 
rank — sensualized  her  nature.  Even  the  Eabbhis  forbade 
her  instruction — deemed  her  incapable  of  it — first  made  her 
clesj^icable,  and  then  despised  her.  Yet  here  our  Lord  is 
seen  conversing  with  one  of  these  despised  ones — assuming 
her  power  to  appreciate  truth — vindicating  her  right  to 
possess  it — and  even  permitting  her  to  become  His  first 
herald  to  her  half-heathen  fellow-citizens.  Here  was  a 
prediction  and  a  promise  of  what  His  gospel  woidd  do  for 
woman,  and,  through  her,  for  you — for  the  world.  For  do 
not  many  of  us  owe  it  to  her  instrumentality  that  the  Gospel 
smiled  upon  our  infancy,  taught  us  to  lisj?  the  sacred  name, 
beckoned  us  to  its  worship),  impressed  us  with  its  truth? 
And  does  not  the  great  cause  of  Gliristian  missions,  and 
therefore  the  world,  owe  it  to  her  hallowing  maternal 
influence  that  many  of  its  most  efiicient  agents  early  con- 
secrated themselves  to  the  high  ofiice  of  reclaiming  the 
heathen  to  God  ? 

I  see  the  Saviour,  on  this  occasion,  sowing  the  seed  of 
another  great  truth  of  which  we  are  now  reaping  the  fruit. 
The  object  of  His  compassionate  address  was  not  only  a 
foreigner  and  a  woman,  but  poor.  And,  doubtless,  those  with 
whom  He  tarried  the  two  days  were  of  the  same  lowly  class. 
But  this  was  an  invasion  of  another  general  custom.  The 
poor  were  supposed  to  possess  no  riglits.  If  the  Greek 
looked  clo^vn  on  the  barbarians,  the  freeman  des2:)ised  the 
slave,  the  j)hilosopher  the  simple,  the  wealthy — nay,  all  united 


OF  CHRISTIAN  LABOUR.  197 

in  despising  the  poor.  "Tliis  people  which  knoweth  not  the 
law/'  said  the  proud  Pharisee,  "are  cursed"— this  ignorant 
and  contemptible  class  is  forsaken  of  God  and  doomed  to 
destruction.  Eeligion  itself  had  become  an  exclusive  privi- 
lege— an  aristocratic  affair.  But  here  we  behold  Him  who 
had  been  annointed  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  the  poor,  opening 
His  commission — anointing  the  masses — taking  the  poor 
to  His  heart — inaugurating  the  peo;ple  to  the  privileges  of  His 
kingdom.  Here,  first,  we  see  Him  adopting  the  poor  for 
His  chents — raising  an  insurrection,  the  insurrection  of  the 
heart  and  the  reason,  against  all  class  oppression — ^vindicating 
the  sacredness  of  individual  and  universal  man  as  man. 

Dear  yomig  friends,  you  do  not  think  of  asking  whether 
these  civilizing  seeds  have  germinated  or  not.  The  society  in 
which  you  live  demonstrates  it.  Your  only  wonder  is,  that 
the  world  should  have  ever  required  them  to  be  sowm.  And 
this  very  wonder  of  yours  is  a  measure  of  the  social  advan- 
tao-e  you  are  at  this  moment  deriving  from  the  Gospel.  We 
should  now  deem  the  absence  of  the  very  virtues  inconceivable, 
the  'presence  of  which  was  once  deemed  impossible.  Prin- 
ciples and  aims  which  a  Celsus  urged  as  conclusive  against 
the  Gospel,  because,  in  his  view,  unattainable,  are  now  become 
so  familiar  as  to  be  placed  among  the  lowest  of  our  arguments 
in  its  favour. 

But  we  can  be  more  specific  still.  As  to  Divine  revelation 
itself;  is  it  nothing  that  the  temple  of  Truth  is  complete — 
that  age  after  age  saw  it  rise,  till  at  length  the  august  dome 
attained  its  height,  and  the  top-stone  was  brought  forth?  As 
to  the  validity  of  the  Gospel;  what  if  the  first  onset  against 
it  had  yet  to  be  made — what  if  that  first  appeal  against  its 
persecutors,  "And  now,  Lord,  behold  their  threatenings,  and 
grant  unto  thy  servants  that  with  all  boldness  they  may  speak 
thy  word"— what  if  that  appeal  had  only  just  been  uttered 
—what  if  we  had  only  just  returned  from  carrying  the 
slaughtered  Stephen  to  his  burial,  and  from  looking  on  the 
martyrdom  of  Antipas  ?     Is  it  nothing  to  know  that  though 


198  THE  FIELD  AND  HARVEST 

the  Gospel  denoiincctl  not  merely  all  tlie  gods  of  tlie  world's 
Pantheon,  but  went  deeper  still,  and  i')roclamied  eternal  war 
against  the  ver)^  principles  and  propensities  of  human  nature 
which  had  given  them  birth,  it  should  yet  have  triumphed  ? — 
that  though  it  has  evaded  no  difficidty,  turned  aside  from  no 
foe,  has  even  gone  in  search  of  Satan's  seat,  it  has  yet  survived 
every  conflict,  and  found  tlie  hour  of  its  crisis  the  season  of  its 
greatest  triumphs? — that  after  passing  through  every  variety 
of  external  ordeal  to  which  it  is  ever  likely  to  be  subjected, 
it  should  prove  to  have  gathered  strength  from  conflict,  to 
have  drawn  its  ablest  champions  from  the  ranks  of  its  greatest 
foes,  and  be,  at  present,  more  vigorous  and  aggressive  than 
ever  ?  As  to  its  universal  adaptation  ;  is  it  nothing  to  know 
that,  not  a  people  here  and  there  merely,  but  nations  in  every 
stage  of  civilization,  and  exhibiting  almost  every  variety  of 
political  and  moral  condition,  have  abandoned  their  idolatries 
and  embraced  the  Christian  name — that  in  its  travels  of  mercy 
it  has  pierced  continents  of  the  grossest  darkness,  and  made 
them  light  in  the  Lord — calmed  the  temj^est  of  the  soul  in 
the  very  height  and  fuiy  of  its  rage — numbered  among  its 
converts  many  who  were  once  the  vilest  of  their  race — and, 
wherever  it  has  gone,  has  erected  monuments  of  its  power  to 
save  ?  We  pass  to  the  field  of  missionary  eff'ort  over  tlie 
wrecks  of  ancient  systems,  and  through  scenes  of  early  Gospel 
triumph — and  shall  we  not  feel  the  inspiration  of  the  scene? 
The  idols  we  have  now  to  assail  have  been  long  ago  routed 
under  other  names,  and  in  other  lands ;  and  the  sword  we 
wield  routed  them. 

As  to  our  home  facilities  for  sending  the  Gospel  abroad; 
they  are  the  fruits  of  ages  of  toil — of  a  patience  that  could 
not  be  wearied,  and  a  faith  that  would  not  be  denied.  If  the 
seventeenth  century  was  the  age  of  missionary  j)reparation  and 
promise,  when  the  Church  was  just  starting  from  its  long  deep 
sleep,  as  it  caught  the  wail  and  the  shriek  of  the  Pagan  world 
— the  eighteenth  began  to  fulfil  that  promise,  as  the  age  of 
missionary  association — and  the  nineteentli  took  the  character 


OF  CHRISTIAN  LABOUE.  199 

of  tlie  age  of  missionary  entcrj^rise.  There  was  a  time  when 
the  enterprise  was  the  olyect  of  ahiiost  universal  scurrility 
and  invective.  Is  it  no  advantage  to  join  it  at  a  period 
when  public  opinion  has  determined  in  its  fixvour — when  it 
has  come  to  be  recognized  as  one  of  the  great  moving  forces 
of  the  a,ge,  to  take  its  place  among  the  noblest  of  the  powers 
that  be  ?  There  was  a  time  when  the  Church  itself  had  to 
be  aroused  and  conciliated  in  its  behalf  Is  it  a  sli<dit 
advantage  to  be  allied  to  it  at  a  time  when  Christians,  vdiat- 
ever  their  practice  may  be,  have  come  to  acknowledge  that 
they  ought  to  form  one  great  organization,  whose  prayers 
should  ever  ascend,  whose  resources  should  be"  taxed,  whose 
noblest  talent,  and  wisdom,  and  piety,  should  be  dedicated 
to  the  world's  recovery  to  God  ? 

As  to  our  missionary  facilities  abroad;  the  time  was  when 
every  door  was  closed,  and  every  face  wore  a  scowl.  Is  it 
no  advantage  to  live  at  a  time  when  there  is  no  shore  on 
which  we  may  not  disembark — no  boundary  we  may  not 
pass,  when  the  world  is  open?  Is  it  no  inducement  to 
advance,  when,  even  in  the  eyes  of  its  votaries,  idolatry  is  a 
disenchanted  and  a  hollov/  mockery — when  its  altars  tremble, 
and  its  worshippers  desert  them — when  its  very  weakness 
invites  assault,  and  insures  conquest?  Is  it  no  advantage 
that  the  missionary  array  can  take  up  its  ground,  supported 
by  the  Bible  Society,  on  the  one  hand,  by  the  Tract  Society 
on  the  other,  and  with  numerous  other  aids  in  reserve — that, 
set  free  from  every  other  task,  it  can  concentrate  all  its 
energies  on  its  own  proper  work  ?  Is  it  nothing  that  the 
native  mind  begins  to  be  leavened  with  the  truth — that  a 
native  ministry  is  advancing  to  the  work — that  native 
churches,  here  and  there,  are  beginning  to  be  self-supporting 
and  aggressive — that  the  faith  and  fervour  of  whole  churches 
surpass  the  piety,  and  shame  the  lethargy  of  many  a  church 
at  home — that,  after  the  lapse  of  ages,  the  Christian  Church 
sees  the  fires  of  martyrdom  again  kindled  in  her  distant 
horizon,  and  many  of  lier  new-made  converts  consecrating 


200  THE  FIELD  AND  HARVEST 

her  afresli  in  a  baptism  of  blood?  Oh,  is  it  not  rich  en- 
conragemcnt  to  know,  that,  at  this  moment,  ten  thousand 
hearts  on  earth,  and  ten  thousand  harps  in  heaven,  are 
blessing  God  for  the  missionary  enterprise? 

Dear  young  friends,  you,  as  the  friends  of  Christian  mis- 
sions, can  hardly  be  said  to  have  anything  to  hegin.  Obstacles 
once  considered  mountainous — all  but  imscalable — are  now 
become  plains.  A  highway  is  prepared  for  our  God.  Paths 
are  worn  for  your  feet — paths  which  were  not  seldom 
watered  with  tears — stained  with  blood.  Methods  once 
untried,  and  strange  events,  are  now  familiar  as  laws  of 
nature.  Of  all  the  experience  of  the  past  you  are  the  heirs. 
For  your  inspiration,  you  have  the  example  of  men  of  whom 
the  world  was  not  worthy — their  names  for  your  titles — 
their  noble  deeds  for  your  heraldry.  You  have  not  so  much 
to  sow  the  seed,  as  to  reap  the  harvest.  "  Other  men  have 
laboured,  and  ye  have  entered  into  their  labours/' 

IV. 

But  if  the  labourers  in  the  missionary  field  thus  inherit 
from  their  predecessors  a  certain  amount  of  facility  and 
advantage,  it  follows,  fourthly,  that  every  generation,  and, 
therefore,  our  o"wn,  has  its  own  proper  work  to  perform. 
We  cannot  live  on  what  others  have  done.  AVe  inherit  it 
only  as  we  employ  it,  and  only  that  we  may  employ  it. 
Tlieir  labours  did  not  leave  the  world  as  they  found  it,  and 
we  enter  into  their  labours  only  as  we  carry  them  forwards. 

Now,  far  be  it  from  me  to  assume  that  I  can  jDoint  to  any 
particular  sphere  of  missionary  effort,  or  jDrescribe  any  one 
kind  of  labour,  and  say.  Behold  the  one  transcendent  duty  of 
the  age.  But  I  can  attempt  to  do  what  is  of  far  greater 
importance.  I  can  tell  you  what  I  believe  to  be  necessary 
in  order  that  you  may  ascertain  for  yourselves  the  special 
claims  of  the  day.  I  can  characterize  the  only  mani^er  in 
which  those  claims  should  be  met,  and  I  can  present  you 
with  motives  so  to  meet  them. 


OF  CHEISTIAN  LABOUE.  201 

Dear  young  friends,  have  you  that  first  qualification  for 
Christian  usefulness— personal  piety?  "The  field  is  the 
world/'  and  your  heart  is  a  part  of  it — is  it  reclaimed  to 
God?  Your  heart  is  that  world  itself  in  epitome.  And, 
apart  from  the  grace  of  God,  there  is  no  scene,  however 
blighted  and  sterile,  on  the  world's  wide  surface,  or  however 
lu'olific  in  rank  and  monstrous  growths,  which  has  not  its 
spiritual  counterpart  in  your  breast.  And,  apart  from  that 
grace,  however  fair  your  character  may  be  in  appearance, 
and  whatever  part  you  may  take  in  sowing  other  lands  with 
the  seed  of  the  Gospel — you  yourselves  resemble  a  plot 
covered  with  weeds,  from  which  every  autunmal  breeze 
wafts  some  winged  seeds  to  infest  the  region  round  about. 
Doubtless,  from  childhood  up,  the  germs  of  Scriptural  truth 
have  been  sown  thickly  in  your  hearts.  In  numerous 
instances,  too,  there  have  been  first  the  blade,  and  then  the 
ear.  Has  the  full  corn  in  the  ear  appeared  ?  The  tree  has 
blossomed.  Has  the  blossom  set,  are  the  fruits  of  holiness 
appearing  ?  Do  you  form  a  part  of  the  garden  of  the  Lord  ? 
By  a  sense  of  consistency,  neglect  not  the  Gospel  you  assist 
to  diffuse.  Pass  not  untasted  the  cup  of  blessing  you 
forward  to  others.  "  Sow  to  yourselves  righteousness,  reap 
in  mercy;  break  up  your  fallow  ground:  for  it  is  time  to 
seek  the  Lord,  till  he  come  and  rain  righteousness  upon 
you." 

2.  To  this  qualification,  add  the  enlightened  and  firm  con- 
viction, that  you  have  a  peculiar  v^Aork,  an  assigned  task  to 
perform — a  mission.  Do  not  be  satisfied  with  the  empty 
words.  Be  iinpressed  with  the  certainty,  solemnity,  and 
grandeur  of  the  thing.  For  this  you  have  been  bought. 
Ye  are  not  your  own.  Say  not  in  a  spirit  of  ignoble  self- 
depreciation,  "  What  can  I  do  ? "  You  are  doing  something 
in  even  saying  that— doing  evil.  Whether  you  will  or  not, 
you  are  always  affecting  those  around  you— transmitting 
good  or  evil.  Through  them  the  impulse  spreads  and 
spreads,  till  myriads,  never  seen  by  you,   vibrate  to  your 


202  THE  FIELD  AND  HARVEST 

touch.  Now,  you  can  affect  them  voluntarily/,  and  all  for 
good.  You  can  pervade  an  indefinite  circle  with  the  noblest 
influence.  How  consecratino;  the  thouoht !  How  ennoblino; 
the  inspiration  !  You  can  stamp  your  moral  impress  on 
the  imperishable  interests  of  your  race.  The  state  of  the 
dead  you  cannot  affect — they  are  affecting  you.  But  the 
living  you  can.  And  you  have  been  set  do^vn  by  the  hand 
of  God  in  the  midst  of  the  myriads  of  immortal  men  now 
teeming  around  you,  that  you  may.  These  are  the  men  with 
whom  you  will  go  to  the  bar  of  judgment.  This  is  the  gene- 
ration with  which  you  will  be  more  intimately  connected  in 
eternity  than  with  any  other.  They  are  within  the  reach 
of  your  zeal,  the  scoj^e  of  your  prayers.  A  post  is  assigned 
you,  and  a  talent  intrusted  to  you  for  their  express  benefit. 
You  can  serve  the  future  best  by  blessing  the  present.  Like 
David,  who  "  served  his  own  generation  by  the  tvill  of  God," 
your  own  generation  demands  a  service  from  you;  and  God 
wills  that  you  perform  it.  Like  David,  you  can  be  men 
after  God's  own  heart.  This  is  true  royalty ;  and  you  are 
called — you  are  anointed  to  it.  Wait  not  for  great  occa- 
sions ;  the  moments  are  flying,  and  the  world  perishing. 
Aim  not  at  singularity ;  combine  with  the  Church.  In  the 
associative  spirit  of  the  day,  join  hands  with  those  who  are 
already  organized,  and  labouring  to  leaven  humanity  with 
the  Gospel  of  Christ.     Do  this  ;  and  live  to  all  posterity. 

3.  That  you  may  do  it  intelligently,  take  a  survey  of  the 
work  the  Church  is  performing.  Acquaint  yourselves  with 
its  aims,  its  obstacles,  and  its  tendencies.  Eemember  that 
no  movements  on  earth  are  comparable  to  them  in  import- 
ance. They  belong  to  the  education  of  the  race.  They 
involve  the  princij^le  of  pi^ogress.  Li  God's  history  of  the 
ancient  world,  Assyria,  Babylon,  and  Egypt — the  huge  quag- 
mires of  that  day — are  passed  by  comparatively  unnoticed; 
while  the  family  of  Abraham — the  little  living  stream  run- 
ning through  the  great  morass — is  traced  minutely  in  all  its 
windings.     And  when  at  length  the  sum  of  modern  history 


OF  CHRISTIAN  LABOUR.  203 

shall  be  looked  at  in  the  light  of  heaven,  the  onward  move- 
ment of  the  Christian  Church  shall  be  seen,  like  a  golden 
thread,  running  through  the  dark  woof  and  tissue  of  the 
present,  enriching  and  giving  unity  and  cliaracter  to  the 
whole.  Master  the  great  subject,  then,  as  if  you  were  pre- 
paring for  examination  on  it,  and  it  will  give  meaning  and 
consistency  to  all  you  do. 

4.  Eor  the  same  reason,  acquaint  yourselves  with  the  state 
of  that  ivorld  which  demands  your  sympathy  and  yonr 
labours.  "Lift  up  your  eyes,  and  look  upon  the  fields.'' 
Dear  young  friends,  the  reason  why  the  Church  does  no  more 
for  the  world  is,  that  it  does  not  lift  up  its  eyes  and  look  on 
it.  Woidd  the  Almighty  affect  his  proj^het  with  the  sphitual 
death  of  the  Jewish  nation?  He  called  liim  to  look  on  a 
valley  full  of  dry  bones.  Was  the  spiiit  of  Paul,  when  at 
Athens,  stirred  within  him?  It  was  when  he  saiu  the  city 
wholly  given  to  idolatry.  Did  Jesus  weep  over  Jerusalem? 
It  was  when  He  drew  near  and  heJield  the  city.  And  if  we 
would  be  duly  impressed  with  the  spiritual  destitution  of 
mankind,  we  must  look,  and  gaze,  and  dwell  on  the  subject. 
There — behold  them — there  are  regions  of  troj)ic  heat,  and  of 
ever-burning  Parsee-fires;  and  there  are  bleak  wastes  of 
Arctic  rigour.  There  are  the  sand-columns  rushing  through 
the  desert  stej)pes  of  Tartary;  and  there  the  rugged  defiles 
of  Arabia.  Africa  there,  with  her  Saharas  and  simooms; 
and  there  the  dense  jungles  of  India,  swarming  with  the  ser- 
pent and  the  beast  of  i:)rey.  Next  rises  to  view  Chma,  stretch- 
ing away  on  every  side — a  weed-covered  moral  world;  and 
there  the  islands  of  the  sea,  scarred  and  desolated  by  worse 
than  volcanic  fires.  Mourn  not  for  the  ground.  Wail  not 
for  the  land.  It  is  of  mind  we  sj)eak.  The  desolation  is  of 
the  spirit.  The  blighted  regions  are  of  immortal  souls.  Oh, 
the  swarming  tracts,  the  depths  of  continents  never  fanned 
by  a  breath  from  heaven ;  but  which,  "  bearing  thorns  and 
briars,  are  rejected  and  nigh  unto  cursing,  whose  end  is  to 
be  burned!''     Alas!  "they  are  destroyed  from  morning  to 


204  THE  FIELD  AND  HARVEST 

evening;  tliey  perish  for  ever  without  any  regarding  it!" 
"Who  is  not  tempted  to  cry  out  at  the  sight,  "  0  Thou  with 
whom  is  the  power,  arrest  their  increase?  Stay  the  multipli- 
cation of  human  life !  Forbid  the  onward  flow  of  existence ! 
It  were  better  for  these  myriad  myriads  had  they  never  been 
born ! "  But  no ;  the  prayer  suited  to  the  occasion  is  j^re- 
pared — '-'Drop  down,  ye  heavens,  from  above,  and  let  the 
skies  pour  do^vn  righteousness;  let  tlie  earth  open,  and  let 
them  bring  forth  salvation,  and  let  righteousness  sj)ring 
forth  together/' 

5.  But  so  large-hearted  a  prayer  implies  the  use  of  means 
correspondingly  large.  And  this  deep,  expansive  zeal  is  the 
very  element  wanting,  dear  young  friends,  to  characterize  the 
aggressive  and  missionary  efforts  of  the  age  which  you 
represent.  The  very  fact  that  you  inherit  the  facilities  and 
advantages  derived  from  the  past,  justifies  the  expectation  of 
surpassing  effort.  If  the  two  talents  were  expected  to  gain 
other  two,  why  have  you  received  five  if  not  to  gain  other 
five?  It  is  only  in  this  way,  too,  that  you  can  benefit  your 
age;  not  by  "  building  on  another  man's  foundation,''  but  by 
sketching  a  nobler  design ;  not  by  walking  abreast,  but  by 
leading  the  van;  not  by  merely  working  ivith  the  age,  but  by 
inciting  it  to  something  better  than  itself  It  is  only  thus 
that  you  can  effectually  bless  the  future.  The  influence  you 
now  put  into  circulation  will  not  die  with  you.  It  is  your 
legacy  to  posterity — it  will  reach  to  those  you  never  saw,  and 
descend  to  other  times.  Yes,  traces  of  your  character  will 
appear,  ages  hence,  in  the  Churches  of  India  and  Africa, 
China  and  Japan.  You  are  to  give  Cliristianity  to  j^osterity ; 
what  kind  of  a  Christianity  shall  it  have?  A  languid,  feeble, 
spiritless  thing — or  a  system  instinct  with  life?  It  is  only 
thus,  too,  that  you  can  honour  the  Christian  name.  At 
present,  with  here  and  there  an  exception,  it  is  cZishonoured. 
It  was  meant  to  be  a  name  for  all  heroic  (pialities,  all  ascendent 
forces,  and  transforming  powers.  But  to  name  these  qualities 
and  powers  in  connexion  with  the  meagre  Christianity  of  the 


OF  CHRISTIAN  LABOUR.  205 

day,  is  felt  like  a  latent  satire — a  grave  irony.  Passao-es  of 
Scripture,  descriptive  of  early  Cliristianity,  are  felt  to  be  out 
of  place — are  in  danger  of  falling  into  disuse.  Our  world- 
liness  makes  tliem  distasteful — converts  them  into  reproaches. 
"  One  thing  we  lack'' — the  chiefest  of  all.  Dear  young 
friends,  can  you  not  come  to  our  help?  Deeply  are  we 
humbled  at  having  to  ask  it ;  but  will  you  not  save  us,  under 
God,  from  dishonour  and  defeat?  Well  might  our  cheek  burn 
with  shame  at  having  to  make  the  confession ;  but  the  examples 
of  other  days  fail  to  affect  us.  Perhaps  your  example  might. 
We  are  not  lost  to  shame,  Eesolve  on  a  larger  scale — seize 
a  nobler  spirit — aim  at  a  loftier  standard  of  self-consecration 
— and  we  will,  on  our  knees,  glorify  God  in  you.  We  are 
not  lost  to  liope.  Only  let  us  hear  that  some  of  you,  bap- 
tized with  the  Spirit  from  on  high,  have  simply  determined 
to  give  yourselves  up  to  the  pov\^er  of  your  j^rinciples,  and  we 
should  feel  that  the  morning  of  your  life,  and  the  morning  of 
a  glorious  day  for  the  Church,  v/ere  da-wming  together.  Even 
at  present,  remember,  it  is  from  your  ranks  that  our 
missionaries  step  fortli — men  who  offer  themselves  to  be 
baptized  for  the  dead.  Only  copy  th-eir  example — merely 
resolve  that,  by  God's  help,  the  world  shall  feel  your  influ- 
ence before  you  die — and  you  will  be  effectually  serving  the 
Church,  and  conferring  a  blessing  on  all  the  future.  This, 
this  is  pre-eminently  the  v/ork  of  the  day ;  and  you  are  called 
on,  as  by  a  voice  from  heaven,  to  perform  it, 

V. 

Nor  do  we  ask  this  apart  from  adequate  motives.  For, 
fifthly,  the  text  holds  out  to  all  the  faithful  labourers  in  the 
field  of  Christian  activity  the  strongest  inducements  and  the 
brightest  prospects.  "  He  that  reapeth  receiveth  wages,  and 
gathereth  fruit  unto  life  eternal."  Here  is  certainty  of 
reward.  It  is  not  so  much  a  promise  as  a  princii^le,  a  uni- 
versal law  of  the  Divine  kingdom.  Dear  young  friends,  we 
urge  you  to  no  enterprise  of  doubtful  result.     That  you  may 


206  THE  FIELD  AND  HARVEST 

succeed  in  your  worldly  career,  is  all  that  the  most  sanguine 
of  your  parents  and  friends  can  say,  after  having  taken  every 
human  precaution  to  insure  success.  And  yet  such  proba- 
bility is  considered  ground  sufficient  to  justify  the  utmost 
diligence.  That  they  were  right,  and  ouglit  to  succeed,  has, 
in  every  age,  been  ground  sufficient  to  sustain  men  through 
a  martyrdom  of  life  and  of  death.  How,  then,  should  it 
inflame  your  zeal  to  know  that  you  are  labouring  in  a  field 
in  which  you  must  succeed  !  In  scattering  the  seeds  of  life, 
you  are  sowing  your  own  characters.  You  are  uniting  your 
own  interests  witli  those  of  the  great  government  of  God. 
You  are  moving  in  a  line  with  His  purposes.  Every  hallowed 
aim  takes  an  angel  shape ;  every  lofty  aspiration  enters  a 
bright  imperishable  form.  Allied  to  any  other  scheme  of 
efl'ort,  you  can  only  hope  that  yoii  may  be  right;  identified 
with  this,  you  may  know  it.  There  is  nothing  good  which  it 
does  not  bless ;  nothing  great  which  does  not  bless  it,  and 
join  it.  The  field  itself  belongs  to  Christ.  He  has  purchased 
it.  His  blood  is  on  it — His  blood — the  true  seed  of  the 
Church,  His  cross  has  stood  in  it.  His  heart  is  bound  up 
with  it.  What,  then,  though  the  Church  should  grow  weary 
in  well-doing,  or  worldly  enough  to  doubt  the  coming  of  the 
great  harvest  ?  Yfliat  though  in  its  unbelief  it  should  say, 
"  If  the  Lord  will  open  windows  in  heaven,  might  this  thing 
be  ! ''  If  His  peoj)le  will  not  do  the  work,  He  will  open  win- 
dows in  heaven.  "  I  will  hear,''  saith  the  Lord — "  I  will  hear 
the  heavens,  and  they  shall  hear  the  earth,  and  the  eartli  shall 
hear  the  corn  and  the  wine  and  the  oil,  and  they  shall  hear 
Jezreel.''  All  nature  shall  be  set  in  motion — every  sj^ring  of 
Providence  shall  be  touched — new  forces  shall  start  into 
activity.  For  it  is  "  GocVs  husbandry."'  He,  therefore,  "  that 
ploweth  should  plow  in  hope ;  and  he  that  thresheth  in  \\o\)Q, 
should  be  partaker  of  his  hope."  Even  "  he  that  goeth  forth 
and  weepeth,  bearing  precious  seed,  shall  doubtless  come 
again,  bringing  his  sheaves  with  him ;  for  they  that  sow  in 
tears  shall  reap  in  joy."     Already,  in  places,  the  handful  of 


OF  CHKISTIAN  LABOUE.  207 

corn  in  the  earth  shakes  like  Lebanon,  Ah^eady  we  walk  in 
a  world  whose  renovation  is  begun — is  in  progress.  The 
first-fruits  are  gathered.  To  the  eye  of  faith,  the  valleys  of 
the  wide  world  stand  thick  with  corn.  To  the  ear  of  faith, 
the  harvest-home  is  already  rehearsed.  To  the  proi)hetic 
view  of  faith,  the  Spirit  has  been  poured  down  from  on  high, 
and  the  wilderness  has  become  a  fruitful  field,  and  the  fruit- 
ful field  is  counted  for  a  forest ;  and  in  that  newEden,  Faith 
walks  with  a  recovered  world,  admitted  to  eat  of  the  tree  of 
ILfe. 

2.  For  remark,  next,  the  transcendent  excellence  of  the 
reward — "He  gathereth  fruit  unto  life  eternal.''  He  has 
operated  on  mind — cultivated  spirit — sown  immortal  seed  in 
immortal  soil ;  and  he  goes  to  reap  a  harvest  which  will  be 
ever  growing  under  his  sickle — to  pluck  fruit  over  which 
time  and  change  have  no  dominion,  and  which  multiplies 
faster  than  he  can  gather  it.  Dear  young  friends,  have  you 
ambition?  and,  at  thought  of  this,  do  you  not  feel  fired? 
Oh,  how  ennobling  the  prospect ! — fruit  unto  life  eternal ! 
Think  of  men's  loftiest  ivorldly  aims.  What  must  it  be  to 
be  not  merely  ennobled  by  the  hand  of  royalty,  but  to  be  able 
to  confer  nobility  and  rank  ?  Be  anointed  to  a  higher  ofiice. 
Be  invested  with  a  nobler  prerogative.  Away  with  mere 
shadows  and  surfaces.  Here  are  essences,  sublime,  imperish- 
able, and  eternal.  Aid  us  in  saving  immortal  men,  and  in 
leading  them  to  crowns  of  unfading  light.  We  might  tell 
you  of  vast  designs  of  kingly  conquest,  designs  entailed  from 
age  to  age,  and  how  even  vicious  men,  by  being  identified 
with  such  great  designs,  have  been  rescued  for  a  time  from 
their  degradation,  and  have  caught  a  kind  of  grandeur  of 
character  from  their  position.  Here  the  conquest  of  a  world 
is  entailed,  and  you  are  called  on  to  share  the  greatness  of 
the  task.  Here  is  au  object  which  has  made  a  Saviour,  which 
has  developed  new  features  in  the  character  even  of  the 
Blessed  God  ;  and  you  are  actually  called  to  work  with  Him, 
that  with  Him  you  may  reap  the  rich  result.     We  might 


208  THE  FIELD  AND  HAEVEST 

remind  you  of  that  eastern  legend,  tliat  every  time  a  great 
man  dies,  another  is  somewhere  instantly  born — born  to  carry 
on  his  works,  and  to  rej^roduce  his  character.  Here  the 
leojend  becomes  a  sublime  fact.  When  Christ  died,  the 
Christian  Church  was  born — born  to  carry  on  His  work, 
and  to  represent  His  character.  My  young  friends,  you  are 
His  successors  ;  are  you  rightly  alive  to  your  dignity?  You 
are  the  representatives  of  Christ ;  have  you  awoke  up  to  your 
responsibility?  You  are  to  j)rosecute  His  world-wide  ever- 
lasting designs ;  do  you  sufficiently  think  of  the  results  ? 
You  are  to  gather  fruit  unto  life  eternal.  The  sun  in  its 
splendour  is  but  an  emblem  of  the  glory  which  awaits  the 
faithful  servant  of  Christ ;  for  when  that  sun  itself  shall  be 
extinct,  '•'  they  that  have  turned  many  to  righteousness  shall 
shine  forth  as  the  sun  for  ever  and  ever. 

3.  And  then,  too,  the  reward  of  each  is  to  be  enjoyed  in 
happy  fellowship  with  all,  and  is  to  be  thus  indefinitely 
enhanced — "  He  that  soweth  and  he  that  reapeth  shall  rejoice 
together.'"  See,  dear  young  friends,  by  identifying  yourselves 
witli  the  great  Christian  cause,  you  enter  into  fellowshij)  with 
all  the  excellence  and  greatness  the  world  has  ever  knovm. 
You  foil  into  a  train  in  which  the  prophets  and  ajDOstles,  the 
martyrs  and  confessors,  the  reformers  and  missionaries,  the 
worthies  and  saints  of  all  ages,  have  formed  a  part;  a  pro- 
cession of  which  the  front  ranks  have  long  been  mingling 
with  the  radiance  of  the  ineffable  glory^a  train  which  still 
reaches  from  earth  to  heaven.  You  are  encomj)assed  by  a 
great  cloud  of  witnesses.  You  pass  to  your  work  through 
their  bending  ranks.  A  part  of  their  joy  consists  in  seeing 
you  prosecuting  their  v/ork,  and  emulating  their  example. 
Still  more  will  that  joy  be  enhanced  when  you  go  to  reap 
with  them  the  united  result.  But  it  will  not  be  consum- 
mated till  you,  and  they,  and  the  faithful  of  every  age,  shall 
meet  at  last  to  reap  tlie  harvest  of  a  reclaimed,  and  a  fruit- 
laden,  happy  world.  Oh !  how  shall  we  picture  the  joy  of 
sx)irits,  rescued  themselves  from  endless  death,  meeting  alike 


OF  CHRISTIAN  LABOUR.  209 

tlie  embrace  of  those  who  were  the  means  of  saving  them, 
and  of  those  who  were  afterwards  saved  by  them?  How 
profound  the  satisfaction  of  surveying  the  great  fiekl  of 
Christian  toil,  when  the  last  w^orkman  shall  have  left  it — 
when  the  entire  labour  shall  be  over — when  nothing  shall 
remain  but  the  meeting  of  the  labourers,  the  congratulations, 
the  wages,  the  enjoyment  of  the  fruits,  the  divine  occupa- 
tion of  tracing  how  each  separate  effort  fell  in  with  and 
promoted  the  grand  general  result !  How  divine  the  delight 
of  finding  themselves  all  in  the  presence  of  the  Lord  of  tlie 
harvest — entering  into  the  joy  of  their  Lord — sharing  it 
with  Him — rejoicing  with  Him  in  the  welfare  and  harmony 
of  all  spiritual  being,  in  the  attainment  of  which  He  allowed 
them  the  honour  to  participate. 

On  that  consummation  His  eye  is  at  this  moment  fixed; 
and  He  has  partially  unveiled  the  sight  that  you  may  gaze  at 
it  also.  Would  that  I  could  address  you  in  a  manner  worthy 
of  the  theme,  or  inspire  you  with  a  sense  of  the  greatness  of 
the  work  to  which  He  is  calling  you !  But  I  make  not  the 
attempt.  I  stoo^D  not  to  warn  you  against  those  frivolities 
of  fashion  and  pleasure  by  v/hich  numbers  of  your  own  age 
— the  children  of  folly — are  absorbed.  Such  trifles  be  far 
from  yoLi!  You  have  already  begun  to  walk  over  them — to 
trample  them  in  the  dust — in  your  way  to  nobler  aims.  Eut 
solemnly  v/ould  I  warn  you  alike  against  being  gradually 
drawn  into  an  all-engrossing  pm-suit  of  gain — against  taking 
up  with  any  of  the  sjDurious  forms  of  philanthroj^y  with 
which  tliis  age  abounds,  to  the  neglect  of  God's  great  specific 
for  man's  disease — and  against  adopting  tins  in  a  languid, 
half-hearted  manner.  Now,  indeed,  is  the  strife  and  the 
strain.  Many  of  you  have  heard  of  the  torch-race,  in  which 
the  Grecian  youth,  laboriously  trained  for  it,  agonized  as 
they  panted,  and  ran,  and  passed  on  the  lamp  from  hand  to 
hand.  In  the  race  of  generations  on  the  great  field  of  tune, 
your  turn  has  come  to  seize  the  light  of  life,  and  to  carry  it 
forward  into  the  darkness.     Are  you  j^anting  to  start?     Now 

o 


210      THE  FIELD  AND  HAEVEST  OF  CHEISTIAN  LABOUR. 

for  the  fleet  of  foot  and  the  resolute  of  will.  It  is  no  common 
time.  You  come  on  the  field  of  conflict  at  the  very  crisis  of 
the  fight.  Ai-e  you  ready  for  the  charge?  Under  God,  you 
are  our  hope.  We  ask  not  for  mere  sudden  impulses — the 
effect  of  passing  appeals.  Could  we  but  know  that  you 
retired  to-night  into  solitude  to  reflect,  to  meditate,  to  lay 
the  subject  in  silence  on  yom^  naked  heart,  to  hold  unspeak- 
able converse  with  God  respecting  it,  we  should  thank  God, 
and  take  courage.  We  ask  not  for  mere  verbal  professions. 
You  owe  your  salvation  not  to  words,  but  to  deeds — and 
deeds  should  beget  deeds,  living,  heroic,  godlike  deeds.  We 
ask  you  not  to  speah  great  things,  but  to  live  them.  Upon 
your  heads  the  relations,  influences,  and  responsibilities  of 
all  the  past  meet  and  rest.  Upon  you  "the  ends  of  the 
world  are  come."  All  your  powers  are  due.  Your  very 
position  consecrates  you  to  the  loftiest  service.  "  And  who, 
then,  is  willing  to  consecrate  his  service  this  day  unto  the 
Lord?''  We  ask  you  not  to  attempt  the  impossible,  or  even 
the  extravagant.  But,  remembering  that  we  speak  in  the 
name  of  Him  who  himself  "  travailed  in  soul,''  we  do  ask  for 
your  earnest  resolve  and  your  personal  dedication;  remem- 
bering that  we  plead  within  sight  of  a  world  perishing  for 
lack  of  that  which  you  can  send  them,  we  do  ask  you  to 
work,  to  plan,  to  labour  for  their  rescue;  and  remembering 
that  we  address  you  as  in  the  midst  of  the  great  field  of 
Christian  labour,  and  in  the  presence  of  many  of  the 
labourers,  we  do  ask  you  for  the  prayer  that  wrestles,  and 
the  liberality  that  knows  how  to  make  sacrifices,  and  the 
piety  that  plans  and  purposes  for  the  future,  and  the  holy 
determination  that,  in  the  strength  of  God,  you  will  not  only 
enter  into  their  labours,  but  v/ill  even  aim  to  surpass  them. 


THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TIIVE  IMESSIAIf.  211 


SEEMON  IX. 

THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TKUE  MESSIAH. 

Luke  vii.  19-23 — "AndJolin  calling  unto  him  two  of  his  disciples  sent 
them  to  Jesus,  saying,  Art  thou  he  that  shoukl  come,  or  look  we  for 
another?  "When  the  men  were  come  to  him,  they  said,  John  Baptist 
hath  sent  us  unto  thee,  saying,  Art  thou  he  that  should  come,  or  look 
we  for  another?  And  in  the  same  hour  he  cured  many  of  their  infir- 
mities and  plagues,  and  of  evil  spirits;  and  unto  many  that  were  hlind 
he  gave  sight.  Then  Jesus  ansv.ering-  said  imto  them,  Go  your  way, 
and  tell  John  what  things  ye  have  seen  and  heard  ;  how  that  the  blind 
see,  the  lame  walk,  the  lepers  are  cleansed,  tlie  deaf  hear,  the  dead  are 
raised,  to  the  poor  the  Gospel  is  preached.  And  blessed  is  he  wliosoever 
sliall  not  be  oflended  in  me." 

The  world  knows  nothing  of  its  greatest  men,  says  the  poet. 
Some,  says  Scrii^ture,  have  entertained  angels  unawares. 
But  more  wonderful  still,  the  Son  of  God  himself  was  in  the 
world,  and  the  world  knew  Him  not.  Is  it  strange,  then, 
that  any  one  who  did  recognize  the  j^resence  of  such  great- 
ness should  feel  strong  imj^atience  to  have  it  recognized  by 
others;  especially,  too,  if  he  expected  the  recognition  would 
be  followed  by  an  outburst  of  blessings,  and  still  more  if  he 
felt  himself  responsible  for  heralding  that  greatness,  and  for 
making  it  universally  known? 

Now,  such  appears  to  have  been  the  state  of  mind  which 
originated  this  message  of  John  to  Jesus.  By  some,  it  is 
supposed  to  have  been  expressive  of  rising  doubts  in  the 
mind  of  John  respecting  our  Lord's  Messiahship.  Others, 
resenting  this  view  as  an  impeachment  of  the  Baptist's  faith, 
have  reo-arded  the  messao'e  as  intended  to  remove  the  doubts 
of  John's  discij^les.     The  true  solution  aj^pears  to  be,  that 


212  THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TEUE  MESSIAH. 

John  burned  with  a  dcsh^e  to  have  the  Messiahship  of  Jesus 
forthwith  recognized,  and  sent  this  message  in  the  hope  of 
drawing  from  Him  a  distinct  and  public  avowal  of  His 
official  character.  That  no  shadow  of  a  doubt  crossed  his 
own  mind  respecting  the  validity  of  our  Lord's  claims 
appears  from  this,  that  he  was  prepared  to  take  the  decisive 
answer  to  the  question  from  the  lips  of  Christ  himself;  and, 
also,  that  the  immediate  occasion  of  John's  asking  it  was 
the  report  which  had  reached  him  in  the  prison  of  Mach?erus 
of  our  Lord's  mighty  works — an  occasion  surely  for  removing 
doubts  rather  than  for  creating  them.  His  message,  then, 
originated  in  impatience,  and  was  only  another  illustration  of 
the  grand  impetuosity  of  a  soul  chafing  and  burning  to  reach 
its  goal.  Filled  with  that  eager  enthusiasm  which  sees  no 
difficulties  in  the  attainment  of  its  object,  he  would  have  had 
the  new  kingdom  of  God  set  up  at  once.  Probably,  too,  he 
felt  as  if  his  own  office  of  herald  would  be  incomplete  until 
the  Jews  had  been  brought  to  recognize  in  Christ  the  pro- 
mised Messiah. 

All  this  shewed,  however,  that  John  did  not  perfectly 
apprehend  the  spiritual  nature  of  the  new  dispensation 
• — that,  like  the  apostles  of  that  time,  he  was  expecting 
that  the  kingdom  of  God  would  come  with  observation — 
come  from  without,  instead  of  being  a  slow,  quiet,  sj^iritual 
growth  from  within — that  there  was  too  much  of  the  Old 
Testament  theocracy  in  his  views — and  hence  our  Lord, 
while  pronouncing  him  the  greatest  in  preparing  the  way 
for  the  new  kingdom,  yet  declared  that  the  least  among  the 
truly  enlightened  and  spiritual  subjects  of  that  kingdom  is 
greater  than  he. 

1.  Were  it  my  object  to  point  out  all  the  lessons  to  bo 
learned  from  this  paragraph,  I  might  begin  by  adverting  to 
the  remarkable  manner  iu  which  the  idea  of  the  coming  of 
Christ  had  taken  possession  of  the  heart  of  the  world.  From 
the  hour  when  the  first  j^romise  had  been  dropj^ed,  like  a  seed 
from  the  tree  of  b"fe,  into  the  human  mind,  to  the  day  when 


THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TRUE  MESSIAH.  213 

John,  pointing  to  liim,  said,  "Beholdtlie  Lamb  of  God,-'  the  pro- 
spect of  His  advent  had  never  ceased  to  be  the  sustaining  and 
insj^iring  hope  of  the  world.  Eightly  or  wrongly,  they  all 
conceived  of  Him  as  of  a  being  whose  coming  would  be  the 
great  birth  of  time.  Consciously  or  unconsciously,  their 
thoughts  went  forth  into  the  distant  future  to  meet  Him. 
Often  did  the  eye  of  the  Israelite  sweep  the  horizon  to  descry, 
if  possible,  some  sign  of  His  approach,  some  streak  of  His 
rising  light.  The  consummation  of  all  the  great  designs  and 
promises  of  God  was  referred  to  the  time  of  His  coming. 
His  familiar  designation  came  to  be,  "  the  Comer,"  "  He 
that  is  to  come,''  as  if  the  coming  of  everything  else — the 
coming  of  futurity  itself — depended  on  His  coming. 

2.  We  are  here  reminded,  too,  of  the  evidences  ajDj^rojDriate 
to  signalize  His  arrival,  and  to  certify  His  identity  when  He 
had  come.  Many  of  these  evidences  he  recapitulates  in  the 
text,  as  if  he  had  said,  "  To  me  gave  all  the  prophets  witness; 
from  the  shadowy  outline  sketched  of  me  in  the  first  promise, 
the  hand  of  j)rophecy  has  never  ceased  adding  feature  after 
feature,  till  now  the  portraiture  is  complete;  compare  my 
claims  to  be  the  original,  and  judge  for  yourselves  of  the 
likeness."  Like  the  v/hite  stone,  the  tessera  liospitalis  of  the 
ancients,  of  which  the  separate  parts  were  held  by  mutual 
friends,  constituting  for  each  a  safeguard  from  imposture  and 
a  title  to  hospitality,  the  Jews  held  in  their  hand  parts  of  a 
tliousand  prophetic  tesserce,  of  which  our  Lord,  when  he 
came  and  claimed  to  be  the  world's  guest,  presented  all  the 
corresponding  parts,  so  numerically  exact,  so  proportionally 
complete,  that  he  could  confidently  refer  the  messengers  of 
John  to  the  miraculous  adjustment. 

3.  We  are  here  reminded,  too,  of  the  world's  slowness  in 
recoo;nizino:  His  claims,  and  of  the  reasons  of  that  slo-\^Tiess. 
The  Christ  of  their  imaginations  was  a  very  different  being 
from  the  Christ  of  prophecy  and  of  reality.  And  hence  the 
evidences  by  which  they  expected  Him  to  enforce  His  claims 
answered  to  the  same  false  ideal.      "  The  Jews  required  a 


214}  THE  sig:n"S  of  the  true  ]\IESSIAH. 

sign'' — a  grand  outburst  of  national  glory,  having  Him  for 
its  centre — a  summoning  of  the  world  to  go  forth  and  meet 
Him — noisy  demonstrations  and  judicial  displays  of  power — 
all  flattering  their  own  self-idolatry  by  bringing  the  nations 
in  homage  to  His  feet.  "  The  Greeks  sought  after  wisdom" 
— sublime  speculations  on  the  nature  of  God — solutions  of 
the  mysteries  of  existence — new  theories  of  the  universe. 
And  the  Eoman — the  wondering  scorn  with  which  he  put 
the  question,  "Art  thoun  king,  then?'' shewed  what  evidence 
he  looked  for — an  unfurled  banner  and  a  conquering  legion. 
But  let  us  not  lavish  all  our  condemnation  on  their  misap- 
prehension and  non-reception  of  Christ.  The  ground  of  it 
lay  deeper  than  national  peculiarity  and  the  character  of  the 
times.  The  cause  must  be  sought  for  in  human  nature,  and 
belongs  to  all  time.  It  is  the  ever-changing  manifestation 
of  an  unchanging  cause — the  struggle  of  the  material  against 
the  spiritual — of  man's  persisting  self-idolatry  against  imqua- 
lified  submission  to  the  will  of  God.  How  j)rone  are  we  still 
to  prescribe  modes  to  His  Divine  o^Dcrations !  How  slow  to 
recognize  His  presence  beyond  the  denominational  lines  which 
we  may  have  dra^vn !  How  apt  to  listen  for  Him  in  the 
earthquake  and  tempest,  the  wind  and  the  fire,  rallier  than 
in  the  still  small  voice — to  look  for  Him  in  the  ministrations 
of  pomp,  authority,  and  title,  rather  than  in  those  of  poverty, 
simplicity,  and  abasement!  How  liable  to  form  an  ideal 
Christ,  while  of  the  true  Christ  it  may  still  be  said  to  many 
a  congregation,  "  There  standeth  one  among  you  whom  ye 
know  not!" 

4.  But  notwithstanding  the  world's  slowness  to  recognize 
the  claims  of  Christ,  we  are  here  reminded  that  He  allows 
them  to  be  enforced  by  evidence  alone,  and  is  j^repared  to 
await  the  result.  His  conduct  on  this  occasion  contained  a 
tacit  rebuke  of  John's  impatience.  It  was  as  if  He  had  said, 
"  My  kingdom  is  spiritual,  and  the  emplojmient  of  any  but 
spiritual  and  congenial  means  would  obstruct  its  consumma- 
tion.    My  kingdom  is  already  in  actual  j^rogress ;  and,  slow 


THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TEUE  MESSIAH.  215 

though  that  progress  be,  invisible  to  the  gross  eye  of  sense, 
I  see  the  leaven  already  working  beneath  the  surface — the 
grain  of  mustard-seed  already  germinating.  The  result  is 
certain,  however  distant.  I  have  all  time  in  which  to -work. 
Eashness,  and  the  employment  of  worldly  means,  would  only 
retard  the  end  which  it  was  meant  to  hasten.''  Brethren, 
that  end  has  been  delayed  far  less  by  the  direct  hostilities  of 
His  avowed  enemies,  than  by  the  Vv'orldly  means  employed  by 
His  professed  friends.  Even  evidence  itself — moral  evidence 
— He  employs  only  in  weight  and  measure.  He  does  not 
render  it  irresistible.  Man,  in  his  rashness  and  folly,  would 
call  for  the  dead  to  appear — for  the  flames  of  the  pit  to  flash 
forth  and  glare — for  evidence  compelling  and  overwhelming 
— or  else  for  an  array  of  pains  and  penalties.  But  He  treats 
mind  as  mind — carries  its  strongholds  by  conviction  alone. 

5.  Observe,  again,  that  our  Lord  not  only  employs  evidence, 
in  contradistinction  from  worldly  disj^lay  and  physical  force, 
but  He  here  promotes  7no7xd  evidence  before  miraculous. 
Eeserving  the  strongest  proof  of  His  Messiahship  for  the  last, 
He  declares,  "  To  the  poor  the  Gospel  is  preached.''  After 
announcing  His  various  miraculous  triumphs  over  man's 
physical  ills,  he  winds  up  His  claims  with  this  crowning 
demonstration  — "  To  the  poor  the  Gospel  is  preached." 
Brethren,  from  the  moment  the  Gosj^el  began  to  be  preached 
to  the  poor,  from  that  moment  a  species  of  evidence  for 
Christianity  entirely  new  to  the  world  began  to  come  into 
existence.  Never,  indeed,  mil  the  more  ancient  kind  of 
evidence — the  mu-aculous — lose  its  proper  value.  In  distri- 
buting the  different  kinds  of  evidence,  the  miraculous  has  its 
appointed  place,  and  notliing  can  displace  it.  But  the  moral 
transcends  the  physical — appeals  to  a  higher  part  of  our 
nature,  and  aims  at  nobler  results.  And  to  preach  the 
Gospel  to  the  poor — familiar  as  the  idea  may  have  become  to 
us — so  famihar  that  we  can  hardly  feel  its  argumentative 
force — was  an  entirely  new  thing  in  the  earth.  There  was 
no  precedent  for  it — no  prepossession  in  its  favour.     The  poor 


216  THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TEUE  MESSIAH. 

were  sui^posed  to  jDOssess  no  riglits.  The  voice  of  kindness 
was  new  to  tliem.  If  the  Greek  looked  down  on  the  bar- 
barian, the  freeman  despised  the  shxve — the  i^hilosojDher,  the 
simple — the  wealthy,  nay,  all  united  in  despising  the  poor. 
"  This  people,  which  knoAveth  not  the  law,"  said  the  proud 
Pharisee,  "are  cursed;''  this  ignorant  and  contemptible  class 
is  forsaken  of  God,  and  doomed  to  destruction.  Eeligion 
itself  had  become  an  aristocratic  affair.  But  here  we  behold 
Him  who  had  been  anointed  to  ^^reach  the  Gosjoel  to  the 
poor  opening  His  commission — taking  the  j^oor  to  His  heart 
— inaugurating  the  people  to  the  privileges  of  His  kingdom 
— interweaving  their  highest  interests  with  the  very  witness- 
mark  of  Christianity.  Here  first  we  see  Him  avowedly 
adopting  the  jDoor  as  His  clients  ;  raising  an  insurrection — ■ 
the  insurrection  of  the  heart  and  the  reason — against  all  class 
oppression ;  vindicating  the  sacredness  of  individual  and 
universal  man  as  man. 

But  it  is  to  the  mode — the  form  of  our  Lord's  rej^ly — that 
I  would  now  call  your  attention. 


First,  to  the  fact  that  our  Lord's  teaching  consisted,  to  a 
remarkable  degree,  of  deeds.  Such  was  here  the  Godlike 
manner  of  His  reply  to  the  question,  "Art  thou  he  th^t 
should  come?"  He  answered  not  in  words — entered  into  no 
verbal  explanation — no  argumentative  defence  of  His  claims. 
Actions  speak  louder  than  words.  And  "  in  that  same  hour," 
it  is  said,  He  j^erformed  a  series  of  stupendous  miracles,  and 
left  His  deeds  to  speak  for  themselves. 

And  might  not  tliis  have  been  exjiected?  The  vohtions 
of  an  infinite  mind  are  deeds.  As  the  Being  "  by  whom  all 
things  were  made,"  it  had  ever  been  His  ordinary  method  of 
affirming  the  eternal  power  and  Godhead  "by  the  things 
which  are  seen."  Properly  understood,  every  material  2:>article 
is  impressed  with  His  seal — stamped  with  Plis  image  and 
superscription.     Every  atom  is  a  letter,  and  every  work  a 


THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TEUE  ISIESSIAII.  217 

word.  Every  element  lectures  on  His  attributes,  and  each 
globe  is  a  messenger  ever  moving  in  His  service.  The  stars 
come  forth  nightly  on  their  solemn  embassy  to  proclaim  the 
glory  of  God.  And  daily  the  earth  affirms,  with  voices 
innumerable,  the  power,  and  wisdom,  and  goodness  of  God. 

And  now  He  who  had  "made  the  worlds'' — made  them  as 
a  part  of  the  manifestation  of  God — had  visibly  appeared 
with  a  view  to  a  yet  further  manifestation.  It  was  not  to  be 
expected,  therefore,  that  the  manifestation  would  be  verbal 
merely,  or  even  chiefly.  For  how  can  the  imperfect  medium 
of  speech  convey  an  adequate  idea  of  the  infinite  and  invisible 
God?  It  fails  to  do  justice  even  to  the  greatest  and  best  of 
our  own  conceptions.  It  only  hints  them — helps  us  to  conjec- 
ture them — just  puts  us  in  the  way  of  guessing  each  other's 
meaning,  and  of  understanding  each  other  by  sympathy. 
Accordingly,  He  came  to  he  the  manifestation  of  God,  rather 
than  to  speak  it.  "  He  that  hath  seen  me  (said  He)  hath  seen 
the  Father  also."  In  Him  "  God  was  manifest  in  the  flesh.'' 
Not,  indeed,  that  we  would,  even  in  appearance,  disparage 
our  Lord's  oral  teaching — "  Never  man  spake  like  this  man." 
We  would  not  seem  to  think  lightly  even  of  its  quantity  or 
amount.  Doubtless  it  was  in  that  j^i'oj^ortion  which  His 
wise  and  ^^erfect  purposes  required. 

1.  But,  first,  even  His  teaching — His  oral  instruction — 
consisted  of  tilings  rather  than  of  words.  Even  "  the  words 
that  I  speak  unto  you  (said  He),  they  are  spirit  and  they  are 
life."  They  fell  into  a  stagnant,  putrefying  ocean,  to  stimu- 
late and  put  the  whole  into  activity.  They  contained  a 
fulness  of  meaning  which  His  contemporaries  could  only 
begin  to  comprehend;  the  human  mind  is  still  only  growing 
up  to  them.  Like  living  seeds,  they  only  required  to  be 
shone  upon  from  on  high  in  order  to  become  trees  of  life  for 
the  healing  of  the  nations. 

2.  And  hence  even  His  verbal  teaching  related  especially 
to  Himself.  What  portion  of  it  was  not  either  a  vindication 
of  acts  which  He  had  already  performed,  or  intimations  of 


218  THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TEUE  MESSIAH. 

purposes  wliicli  He  was  about  to  accomiDlisli  ?  What  was 
His  sermon  on  the  mount,  and,  indeed,  the  burden  of  all  His 
parables,  but  a  foreshadowing  of  the  kingdom  He  was  about 
to  set  u]),  of  its  impediments  and  its  growth,  its  spirituality 
and  the  character  of  its  accepted  subjects?  All  that  was 
expository,  hortatory,  and  of  the  nature  of  promise,  in  His 
teachino' — what  was  it  but  an  illustration  of  the  blessins-s 
He  had  come  to  procure,  or  an  invitation  to  partake  of  them? 
As  He  had  been  the  great  subject  of  proj^hecy  prior  to  His 
advent;  so,  when  He  had  come,  ]\Ioses  and  Elias  could  not 
descend  to  commune  with  Him  on  the  Blount  of  Transfigura- 
tion, without  making  the  decease  which  He  should  accomj^lish 
at  Jerusalem  the  burden  of  their  discourse.  He  was  the 
subject  of  His  own  teaching.  "  Never  man  spake  like  this 
man''  in  this  peculiar  respect — that  He  was  the  text  of  His 
own  preaching.  His  words  were  a  running  commentary  on 
His  deeds. 

And  this  distinctive  and  important  fact  supplies  an  adequate 
reply  to  two  objections.  The  first,  more  frequently  felt  than 
expressed,  relates  to  the  greater  fulness  of  evangelical  doctrine 
in  the  epistles  than  in  the  gospels,  and  implies  that,  if  it  be 
not  superabundant  in  the  one,  it  seems  strangely  deficient  in 
the  other.  But  this  objection  overlooks  the  fact  we  are 
expomiding,  that  Christ  came  not  so  much  to  preach  the 
Gospel  as  to  procure  it — to  preach  it  by  procuring  it — to 
perform  the  deeds  which  constitute  the  Gospel;  and  that  not 
until  He  had  ascended  to  be  invested  with  all  power,  and 
had  poured  out  the  Spirit  from  on  high,  had  He  completed 
the  cycle  of  His  saving  works. 

The  other  objection — urged  from  the  time  of  Celsus  do^\m- 
wards — relates  to  the  comparatively  trivial  fact,  that  parallels 
to  two  or  three  of  our  Lord's  moral  sayings  are  to  be  found 
in  the  more  ancient  writings  of  Plato,  Isocrates,  and  others; 
and  hence  it  is  absurdly  inferred  that  the  Gospel  had  been 
anticipated — that  Christianity,  forsooth,  is  not  original.  To 
which  it  might  be  repKed,  that,  admitting  the  supposed  resem- 


THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TEUE  MESSIAH.  219 

blances  to  be  real,  and  not  fanciful,  the  wonder  is  that  they  are 
so  extremely  few — that  the  two  or  three  maxims  and  sayings 
referred  to  are  but  the  distant  reverberations  of  Sinai,  echoes 
of  the  ancient  moral  law — and  that  Christianity  is  more  than 
a  few  maxims  of  morality.  We  point  for  Christianity  (like  our 
Lord  himself)  to  His  works — works  in  which  He  performed 
that  which  all  other  systems  had  only  promised — in  which 
He  embodied  and  made  actual  that  which  others  had  only 
imagined  as  jDossible  and  admired  as  desh-able — works  in 
which  He  once  for  all  met  man's  deepest  wants  and  his 
highest  aspirations.  The  necessities  of  the  world  were  beyond 
the  reach  of  mere  teaching.  It  was  a  condition  of  guilt, 
depravity,  remediless  ruin.  It  required  not  a  system,  but 
deliverance;  not  a  mere  method  of  deliverance,  but  a  deliverer, 
a  personal  redeemer — a  being  who,  taking  a  survey  of  man's 
spiritual  wants,  can  meet  them  all,  can  take  humanity  into 
his  embrace,  and  invite  it  to  cast  itself  on  his  beating  heart 
for  repose — one  whose  word^  will  be  deeds,  the  deeds  of  a 
being  mighty  to  save. 

XL 

This  prepares  us  to  find,  secondly,  that,  to  a  great  degree, 
as  the  text  implies.  His  works  were  wonders.  It  is  a  frequent 
ascription  given  to  God  in  the  Old  Testament,  that  "  He  only 
doeth  wondrous  things.''  "Blessed  be  the  Lord  God,  the 
God  of  Israel,  who  only  doeth  wondrous  things."  To  achieve 
wonders  is  His  prerogative  alone.  Man  attempts  them  in 
vain.  Man,  in  his  self-idolatry,  may  ascribe  wonders  to  ]iis 
fellow-man.  But,  in  his  highest  discoveries,  he  only  sees 
what  God  has  done ;  and,  in  his  greatest  achievements,  only 
avails  himself  of  what  God  had  made  ready  to  his  hand. 
And  not  only  is  God  the  only  wonder-worker,  strictly  speak- 
ing He  works  nothing  but  wonders.  The  atom,  as  an  atom, 
is  not  less  wonderful  than  a  world.  Both  owe  their  origin 
to  miracle,  and  are  alike  covered  with  imprints  of  the  Divine 
signature.     Neither  do  what  we  call  "  the  laws  of  nature'' 


220  THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TEUE  MESSIAH. 

explain  the  miracle  or  lessen  the  wonder.  Eatlier,  tliey  double 
the  wonder  every  moment  they  continue ;  for  they  disclose 
the  jDresence  of  the  Creator,  and  proclaim  that  He  is  working 
still.  Every  star  that  rushes  through  immensity  is  a  miracle 
and  a  messenger  from  God,  proclaiming,  "  There  is  a  God  of 
boundless  power,  and  the  hand  of  that  God  is  upon  me.'' 
Each  of  them,  obediently  followed,  is  a  star  of  Bethlehem,  a 
guide  into  the  Divine  presence.  And  all  of  them  unite — 
yes,  this  is  the  real  music  of  the  spheres — the  chorus  of  crea- 
tion— all  of  them  unite  in  proclaiming  His  eternal  power 
and  Godhead. 

Was  it  strange,  therefore,  that  when  He  came  of  whom  it 
was  predicted  "  His  name  shall  be  wonderful  His  works 
should  partake  of  the  nature  of  signs  and  wonders  ?  There 
was  a  sense  in  which  He  could  not  do  anytlnng  ordinary, 
anything  which  was  not  wonderful.  The  constitution  of  His 
nature  made  this  impossible.  In  Him,  God  and  man  had 
not  only  approached,  they  had  coalesced,  and  become  one. 
This  very  act  had  its  root  in  this  surj^assing  wonder.  The 
humblest  deed  He  performed  contained  in  it  a  portion  of  this 
miracle.  And  the  more  humble  and  lowly  the  act,  the  greater 
the  wonder  of  condescension  in  which  it  was  clothed. 

But,  beyond  this,  a  large  proportion  of  His  acts,  viewed  in 
themselves,  were  truly  supernatural.  "  All  things  at  first  had 
been  made  by  Him,  and  without  Him  was  not  anything  made 
that  was  made  \'  and  now  that  He  had  descended,  and  stood 
in  the  midst  of  the  things  which  He  had  made,  it  was  not 
strange  that  He  should  display  His  power  over  them.  He 
had  originally  given  them  the  laws  they  were  obeying ;  ^vhat 
wonder  that  He  should  prove  that  He  had  given  them,  by 
shewing  that  He  could  have  given  them  others — that  the  slow 
process  of  months  by  which  the  grape  transmutes  the  moisture 
of  the  atmosphere  into  its  own  nobler  juices  cort^c?  be  gathered 
up  into  the  act  of  a  single  moment,  as  when  He  turned  the 
water  into  wine — that  all  those  intervening  steps  by  which 
He  yearly  multipli   ■  a  single  grain  of  corn  a  hundredfold 


THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TEUE  MESSIAH.  221 

could  be  overleaped,  and  the  result  attained  at  once,  as  wlien 
He  multiiDlied  tlie  loaves?  He  had  originally  called  these 
laws  into  being ;  what  wonder  that  they  should  recognize 
the  voice  to  whose  bidding  they  owed  their  existence — that 
the  tempestuous  sea  should  have  quieted  itself  at  the  hush  of 
His  voice  like  a  little  child — that  the  yielding  wave  should 
have  offered  itself  to  support  His  footsteps  ?  He  had  come 
to  be  recognized  by  the  inquiring  and  believing,  to  leave 
behind  Him  the  footprints  of  a  God;  Avhat  wonder  that  every 
element  of  nature  should  have  pressed  forward  in  His  service 
— that  every  object  should  have  listened  to  receive  His  com- 
mand ?  what  wonder  that,  in  resentment  of  man's  slowness 
to  recognize  Him,  the  very  stones  were  ready  to  cry  out? 
He  had  come,  like  the  lord  of  His  own  j^arable,  returning 
from  a  far  country,  to  see  what  his  servants  were  doing, 
and  He  found  an  all-perverting  j^ower  at  work,  a  wide  scene 
of  discord,  wretchedness,  and  ruin ;  what  wonder  that  at  His 
coming  everything  should  essay  to  fall  into  its  proper  place,  and 
discharge  its  j^roper  office — that  disease  should  retire  at  His 
approach — that  at  His  bidding  the  blinded  eye,  the  deafened 
ear,  the  lame  and  paralytic  limb,  should  regain  their  proper 
fmictions — that  even  the  prostrate  dead,  never  meant  to  die 
but  for  sin,  should  hear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  God,  and 
return  to  life  ?  He  was  the  great  power  of  God — the  great 
central  and  pervading  power  of  benevolence ;  what  wonder 
that  "  the  whole  multitude  sought  to  touch  Him,  for  there 
went  virtue  out  of  Him,  and  healed  them  all?"  what  wonder 
that  He  moved  about  encompassed  by  an  atmosj^here  of 
goodness — that,  like  the  angel  standing  in  the  midst  of  the 
sun,  a  Godlil{:e  influence  rayed  and  streamed  from  Him  on 
aU  around  ?  Miracle,  so  far  from  being  strange  to  Him,  was 
the  ordinary  mode  of  His  agency.  Strange  as  it  was  to  man, 
it  was  His  familiar  mode  of  operation ;  and  there  is  abmidant 
ground  to  conclude,  that  had  He  not  been  restrained  by  an 
unbelief  that  would  have  neutralized  the  design  of  miracle — 
had  He  only  found  Himself  moving  in  an  element  of  faith,  in 


222  THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TEUE  MESSLVH. 

tliat  congenial  element  His  joower  would  have  cast  off  all 
restraint,  and  His  every  act  have  been  a  miracle.  He  had 
come  to  bless  and  to  save ;  what  wonder,  then,  that  His 
]30wer  was  only  the  servant  of  His  grace — that  He  should 
preach  the  Gospel  to  the  poor ;  that  He  should  call  for  man 
— the  mere,  the  naked  man — and  shew  that,  clothe  him  in 
purple,  he  is  not  aggrandized — that,  cover  him  with  rags,  he 
is  not  degraded — that  man  has  a  nature  and  a  destiny  which 
ally  him  to  the  skies ;  and  that  He,  the  Son  of  God,  with  a 
plentitude  of  grace,  before  which  the  splendour  of  all  mere 
mmicles  of  power  fade  away,  had  come  to  restore  to  man  his 
lost  inheritance,  and  to  restore  man  to  it  ? 

IH: 

And  this  brings  us,  thirdly,  to  the  fact  that  His  wonders 
were  mercies.  His  words  might  have  been  works,  and  His 
works  wonders,  and  all  these  wonders  might  have  been  judg- 
ments. But  "  God  sent  not  his  Son  into  the  world  to  con- 
demn the  world,  but  that  the  world  through  him  might  be 
saved.''  And  therefore  all  His  acts  of  power  are  found  to  be 
in  harmony  with  His  design. 

All  His  miracles  were  miracles  of  mercy.  They  did  no 
violence  to  nature — introduced  no  disharmony  among  her 
laws.  On  the  contrary,  in  giving  sight  to  the  blind.  He  was 
but  recalling  the  eye  to  its  proper  function ;  in  casting  out 
tlie  demon.  He  was  but  dethroning  a  usurper,  and  restoring 
man  to  himself ;  in  raisins;  the  dead,  He  was  but  reminding 
us  that  death  is  only  an  accident  of  humanity — that  man  was 
meant  to  live.  The  discord  was  here  already — He  was  but 
reducing  the  chaos  to  order — bringing  in  a  higher  harmony — 
giving  to  earth  the  order  and  happiness  of  heaven.  ^^Tiien  did 
He  ever  lift  up  His  hand  but  to  warn  and  to  bless — or  open 
His  lips  but  to  remonstrate,  enlighten,  or  to  console — or 
"go  about''  but  to  do  good?  What  use  did  He  ever  make 
of  His  power  but  as  a  trust  to  be  administered  for  man*s 
advantaire  ? 


THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TEUE  MESSIAH.  223 

And  tills  reminds  us  that,  besides  the  happiness  actually 
conveyed  by  His  healing  acts  of  power,  they  had  a  higher 
symbolical  value.       They  pointed  to  the  redeeming  design 
of  His  advent.      To  many  of  them,  He  himself  gave  this 
interpretation.      Even   the   barren   fig-tree  was   denounced 
symbolically,  because  He  willed  not  the  death  of  a  sinner. 
Eemarkably   did   His  miracles  contrast  in  this   benignant 
respect   with   those   of  Moses.      Eemarkable    as  a   coinci- 
dence—  if  as  nothing  more  —  is  the  fact,  that  while  the 
first  judicial  miracle  of  Moses  converted  water  into  blood, 
the    first   miracle    of    Christ   converted   water    into   wine; 
and  that,  too,  on  an  occasion  v^hich  shewed  His  sympathy 
with  human  happiness — His  power  of  raising  the  low,  and 
ennobling  the  common — of  turning  the  elements  of  earth  into 
the  spiritual  uses  of  heaven.     Every  blind  eye  He  opened 
denoted  that  He  had  come  to  be  the  light  of  the  world. 
Every  demon  He  dispossessed  was  only  another  form  of  the 
prediction,  "Now  shall  the  prince  of  this  world  be  cast  out" — 
humanity  as  a  whole  shall  be  rescued.     Every  dead  body  He 
raised  w^as  a  pledge  of  the  coming  of  a  nobler  life  —  a  life 
exempt  from  death.     Every  act  of  power  was  His  symbolical 
Godlike  mode  of  preaching  the  Gospel — a  new  proclamation 
of  the  spiritual  blessings  He  had  come  to  procure  and  to  impart. 
But,  as  I  have  already  intimated,  the  greatest  wonder  of 
which  we  have  yet  spoken  was  that  of  the  Incarnation.      In 
the  i:>resence  of  this,  all  His  mere  acts  of  power  lose  their 
splendour,  and  disappear.     The  ancient  tabernacle  only  fore- 
sliadowed  this.       The  temple,  with  the  indwelling  Shekinah, 
symbolically  predicted  it.     Every  instance  of  comnnmion  be- 
t\veen  God  and  man — even  the  union  of  soul  and  body  in  the 
creation  of  man — was  only  a  prefiguration  of  this  infinitely 
more   mysterious  union  of  the  Divine  and  human  in  the 
person  of  Christ.      That  the  Omnipresent  should  thus  have 
become  localized,    and  the  Eternal  subject  Himself  to  the 
successiveness  of  time  ;  that  the  Invisible  should  make  Him- 
self apparent,  the  Infinite  expend  itself  on   the  finite,  and 


224  THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TEUE  MESSIAH. 

tlie  Lawgiver  be  seen  in  a  station  of  obedience ;  tliat  tlie 
Creator  should  give  Himself  to  the  creature,  assuming  the 
very  nature  of  the  creature  into  union  with  His  own;  that 
God  slioukl  yet  be  man,  bringing  Himself  under  all  the  con- 
ditions of  a  man — this  was  itself  a  miracle,  from  which  every 
other  wonder  seems  to  follow  naturally  and  of  course — this 
was  a  sacrifice  to  which  only  one  greater  could  be  added. 

And  you  know  the  nature  of  that  one — ''Ye  know  the 
grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.''  Our  condition  required 
that  He  should  die  ;  and  with  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead 
bodily,  He  advanced  to  the  place  of  sacrifice.  Our  redemp- 
tion demanded  that  the  holy  and  outraged  lav/  should  receive 
no  less  a  compensation  than  that  of  His  obedience  unto  death ; 
and  He  humbled,  and  humbled,  and  humbled  Himself  till 
He  had  become  obedient  unto  death,  even  the  death  of  the 
cross.  Beyond  this  He  could  not  go — even  He  could  not  go. 
Yes,  when  He  could  say  no  more,  He  bade  the  cross  begin 
to  speak.  When  His  lips  had  uttered  their  testimony,  He 
opened  His  lieart,  and  spake  in  blood.  When  His  life 
had  ended  its  proclamation  of  mercy,  He  summed  up  and 
exceeded  all  in  the  utterance  of  His  death.  Tell  me,  if  you 
will,  that  it  is  the  self-same  voice  which  speaks  sublimely  in 
creation.  I  admit  and  admire  it ;  but,  oh !  how  distant  there 
— how  close  and  thrilling  here  1  True  ;  I  hear  Him,  too,  in 
the  events  of  providence ;  but  hoAV  vague  and  often  how 
a^vful  there — how  tender,  appealing,  and  subduing  here  !  I 
hear  Him  in  His  miracles,  graciously  inquiring,  "Why 
weepest  thou  ?  What  wilt  thou  that  I  shall  do  unto  thee  ? 
Wilt  thou  be  made  whole?"  But  here  I  find  Him  weeping 
with  me — I  see  Him  dying  for  me — I  hear  Him  saying,  "  It 
is  finished,"  and  find  that  it  is  my  redemption  which  is  com- 
pleted. Hide  from  me  if  you  will  every  other  object — throw 
a  veil  if  you  will  over  every  other  act  which  even  He  jDcr- 
formed — silence  if  you  will  every  other  utterance  which 
comes  from  the  speaking  wonders  of  His  life — but  let  me 
see  His  cross,  let  me  never  cease  to  hear  the  assurance  con- 


THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TEUE  MESSIAH.  225 

stantly  issuing  tlience;  for  it  tells  me  at  once  that  He  is 
infinite  love,  and  my  tender,  compassionate,  all-sufficient 
Saviour. 

IV. 

And  this  reminds  us,  fourthly,  that  His  mercies,  like  the 
acts  by  which  He  replied  to  John's  inquiry,  are  answers  to 
human  questionings  and  necessities.  This  is  only  another 
mode  of  saying  that  the  blessings  of  His  redemption  are  pre- 
cisely adapted  to  our  exigencies.  His  works  might  have 
been  wonders,  and  His  wonders  mercies — but  there  mio-ht 
have  been  a  want  of  suitableness  between  our  wants  and  His 
mode  of  meeting  them.  The  text,  however,  reminds  us  that 
they  are  as  exactly  suited  to  our  necessities  as  the  practical 
reply  which  He  gave  to  the  question  of  John's  disciples — 
that,  in  effect,  they  are  rej)lies  to  our  instinctive  inquiries  and 
conscious  necessities. 

This  view,  indeed,  of  the  correspondence  which*  exists 
between  His  doings  and  our  inquiries,  is  one  which  admits 
of  universal  application.  He  has  forelaid  the  entire  scheme 
of  nature  and  providence  with  a  view  to  it.  No  legitimate 
question  on  any  natural  subject  can  ever  arise  in  our  minds 
which  He,  the  IMaker  of  the  mind,  has  not  foreseen,  and  to 
which  He  has  not  inserted  the  answer  in  the  things  which  He 
hath  made.  And  ten  thousand  thousand  answers  are  silently 
awaiting  the  future  questions  which  shall  call  them  forth 
The  several  acts  of  creation  itself  may  have  been  practical 
replies  to  the  questions  of  other  orders  of  being.  Possibly 
at  this  moment  the  Creator  may  be  elsewhere  exhibiting 
similar  demonstrations  of  His  perfections  in  reply  to  similar 
inquiries.  In  the  amplitudes  of  space,  hosts  of  intelligent 
beings  may  at  this  moment  be  collected  around  the  chaos  of 
a  world  or  a  system,  wondering  whether  it  will  ever  be 
restored,  or  whether  all  creative  acts  are  at  an  end.  And 
"in  that  same  hour,"  whila  they  are  thus  doubting  and 
inquiring,  they  may  be  made  awfully  conscious  of  the  creative 

P 


226  THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TRUE  MESSIAH. 

presence  among  tliem — and  the  fiat  may  go  fortli,  "  Let  there 
be  light,"  and  tlie  light  of  a  Divine  demonstration  may  kindle 
around  them. 

In  harmony  with  the  same  correspondence,  the  revelations 
of  the  Old  Testament  are  frequently  represented  as  re2:)lies  to 
human  inquiries.  Besides  imparting  His  mind  to  man  spon- 
taneously, God  was  graciously  pleased  tq  allow  Himself, 
under  certain  conditions,  to  be  questioned  or  inquired  of; 
and  His  reply  was  called  an  utterance,  a  response,  an  oracle. 
But  then,  as  ull  the  communications  of  God  to  man,  however 
made,  are  on  topics  of  deep  and  solemn  import,  they  may  all 
be  regarded  as  responses  to  human  inquiries,  although  these 
inquiiies  may  never  have  been  put  formally  and  in  so  many 
words ;  and  hence  the  other  parts  of  the  Bible,  as  well  as 
those  which  contain  His  direct  responses,  came  to  be  denomi- 
nated oracles  also.  The  law  of  ten  commands,  for  exam23le 
— each  of  these  is,  in  effect,  a  reply  to  a  solemn  inquiry.  In 
all  ages,  the  idolatrous  tendencies  of  the  human  heart  have 
been  asking — and  a  large  majority  of  mankind  continue  to 
repeat  the  question — "^lay  we  not  have  a  plurality  of  gods?" 
And  the  first  command  comes  like  an  oracle  from  amidst 
the  lio-htnino's  of  Sinai,  "  Thou  shalt  have  none  other  ffods 
before  me.''  Then  if  we  may  not — continues  the  same  per- 
sisting perverseness — may  we  not  at  least  indulge  our  senses 
with  symbolical  representations  of  God?  And  again  the 
thunder  of  the  oracle  is  heard,  "  Thou  shalt  not  make  unto 
thyself  any  graven  image"  And  hence  all  the  commands  of 
the  moral  law  are  denominated  oracles;  "For,"'  saitli  Stephen, 
when  speaking  of  Moses,  "this  is  he  who,  in  Momit  Sinai, 
received  the  lively  oracles  to  give  unto  us.'" 

And,  indeed,  what  part  of  the  ancient  revelation  did  not 
reply  to  some  important  and  importunate  inquiry  of  the 
human  mind  ?  ^Yllat  are  the  historical  books  of  the  Bible, 
but  God's  oracular  and  sufficient  reply  to  man's  earnest 
questionings  concerning  the  origin  of  the  world  and  the  early 
history  of  antiquity  ?     What  are  all  its  threatenings,  but  the 


THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TEUE  MESSIAH.  227 

oracles  of  His  holiness  responding  to  the  questionings  of 
human  fear  respecting  the  punishment  of  sin  and  a  judg- 
ment to  come  ?  What  are  all  its  promises,  but  the  oracles  of 
mercy  replying  to  the  hopes  of  man  concerning  pardon  and 
endless  life  ?  And  what  its  prophecies,  but  the  answer  of  the 
omniscient  oracle  to  man's  inquiries  respecting  the  eventful 
future — and  especially  respecting  the  character  and  office  of 
"  Him  that  was  to  come/'  Hence,  the  entire  Old  Testament 
is  described  as  oracular;  for,  says  the  apostle,  the  great 
advantage  of  the  Jews  consisted  in  this,  that  "  unto  them 
were  committed  the  oracles  of  God/' 

But  now  "  He  that  was  to  come''  had  actually  arrived. 
The  living  oracle  Himself  was  present  in  human  nature. 
Questions  which  man's  guilt  aad  misery  had  never  ceased  to 
ask  were  now  to  receive  a  full,  practical,  satisfactory  reply. 
But  how  will  He  meet  the  deep  necessity? 

You  see  the  messengers  of  John  arrive.  You  hear  the 
anxious  question  which  comes  from  his  prison-house.  Mark, 
now,  the  mode  in  which  our  Lord  replies  to  it.  He  collects 
around  Him  the  blind,  the  deaf,  the  maimed,  the  demon- 
possessed,  the  dying — specimens  these  of  the  world's  moral 
wreck.  In  the  midst  of  this  human  chaos  He  stands,  and, 
yearning  with  compassion,  breathes  upon  the  victim-mass, 
and  creates  it  anew.  Such  was  His  reply  to  John  ;  and  you 
behold  in  it  an  emblem  of  His  mode  of  answering  the  world's 
great  questions  respecting  His  power  to  save.  "  Go,"  said 
He  to  John's  disciples  at  the  close  of  His  miraculous  display ; 
"  Go,  and  tell  John  what  things  ye  have  seen  and  heard/' 
And  at  the  close  of  His  great  redeeming  work,  "  Go,"  said 
He  to  His  own  disciples ;  "  Go  into  all  the  world,  and  preach 
the  Gospel  to  every  creature.'' 

V. 

Brethren,  have  we  proved  the  sufficiency  of  His  redemp- 
tion ?  Then  ours  is  no  indifferent  position,  no  slender  trust. 
Talk  of  successors  of  the  apostles !     Behold,  a  greater  than 


228  THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TEUE  MESSIAH. 

Paul,  or  Peter,  or  John  is  here  !  In  a  high  and  important 
sense,  we  are  the  successors  of  Christ.  We  are  to  be  His 
rej)resentatives  to  the  world.  And  our  ivords  cannot  repre- 
sents His  deeds.  Our  mere  2'>^^ofessions  cannot  do  justice  to 
His  works — cannot  give  the  world  an  idea  of  His  labours,  and 
sacrifices,  and  wonders  of  mercy :  reminding  us,  fifthly,  that 
a  i^ractical  Christianity  alone — a  Christianity  embodied  in 
deeds  of  mercy — can  adequately  illustrate  the  work  of  redemp- 
tion by  Christ,  or  meet  the  inquiries  and  wants  of  the  world. 
"  And  blessed  is  he,"  saith  Christ,  "  who,  on  hearing  this,  is 
not  off'ended  in  me.'' 

Brethren,  our  Lord  meant  not  that  His  wonder-works 
should  end  with  Himself  "  All  power  is  mine,"  said  He, 
''in  heaven  and  in  earth."  All  power  was  at  that  time  lodged 
in  Him,  as  the  centre  of  an  ever-enlarging  circle.  He  him- 
self was  at  that  moment  the  kingdom  of  God  on  earth ;  all 
the  laws,  immunities,  and  resources  of  that  kingdom  were 
enclosed  in  Him.  There  He  stood,  the  kingdom  of  God  com- 
plete, with  all  its  springs  coiled  for  action,  all  th^  new  forces 
destined  to  vibrate  through  the  world.  And  it  was  in  Him, 
that  it  might  be  forthwith  unfolded  in  all  them  that  should 
receive  Him.  It  was  not  meant  that  His  life  and  character 
should  be  separated  from  theirs  by  a  great  chasm,  a  vast  abyss — 
His  aU  deeds,  and  theirs  all  ^professions — His  all  power,  and 
theirs  all  feebleness — His  all  sacrifice,  all  cross,  and  theirs 
all  ease  and  indulgence.  Morally,  they  are  to  live  His  life 
over  again.  The  holiness  and  love  and  zeal  which  appeared 
in  Him  are  to  reappear  in  tliem  with  power. 

And  do  you  not  see  that  this  is  the  very  character  which 
it  is  the  aim  of  the  Gospel  to  form  ?  Conducting  us  into  the 
l^resence  of-  the  cross,  it  there  gives  us  to  feel  that  we  owe  our 
redemption,  not  to  words,  but  to  deeds — to  deeds  never  to 
be  paralleled — to  a  sacrifice  which  never  can,  never  need  be 
repeated.  That  cross,  in  the  hand  of  the  Spirit,  becomes  the 
power  of  God  to  our  salvation.  It  deals  not  with  a  part  of 
the  man.      It  affects   and   takes   possession  of  the  whole. 


THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TRUE  MESSIAH.  229 

Calling  his  conscience  from  the  dead,  it  supplies  motives 
for  all  his  actions,  objects  for  all  his  affections — gives  him 
back  his  lost  soul,  and  appropriates  the  whole  as  a  living 
power  to  itself.  The  kingdom  of  Christ  luithout  is  carried 
into  him,  and  he  himself  becomes  a  kingdom.  Everythinf>- 
in  Christ  becomes  a  transforming  power  in  him. 

Now  first  he  becomes  acquainted  with  the  loftiest  2-)rin- 
ciples  of  action ;  for  a  love  surpassing  knowledge  has  saved 
him,  and  wherever  he  may  look,  he  is  still  within  the  range 
of  its  saving  power.  The  loftiest  ends  lie  before  him ;  he  is 
to  live  instrumentally  for  the  very  ends  for  which  the  Saviour 
died.  And  how  can  lie  hold  back  who  feels  that  he  is  not 
his  own  ?  or  how  divide  his  heart  with  the  world,  when  his 
only  grief  is,  that  his  all  should  so  inadequately  express  his 
sense  of  obligation  to  Christ  ? 

And  do  you  not  know  that  to  this  Spirit,  under  God,  the 
Gospel  owed  its  early  trium2:)hs  ?  I  say  not  that  every  Chris- 
tian then  was  a  hero.  Nor  would  I  for  a  moment  imply 
that  Christianity  noiv,  to  be  genuine,  must  be  ever  in  public, 
and  be  preceded  by  the  sound  of  a  trumpet.  This  is  too 
much  its  character  at  present,  requiring  an  ample  space  to 
work  in,  supposing  that  all  its  works  must  be  efforts,  spasms, 
and  demanding  the  presence  of  a  multitude  to  witness  them 
— signs  these,  not  of  an  inward  piety,  but  only  of  an  out- 
ward— not  of  a  strong  Christianity,  but  of  a  weak.  Great 
occasions  are,  of  necessity,  only  of  rare  occurrence.  Only  let 
the  minor,  the  constant  occasions  for  usefulness  be  embraced, 
and  we  shall  not  need  to  seek  the  greater.  We  shall  be  ever 
finding  them  without  seeldng.  They  will  seek  us.  We  shall 
be  unconsciously  creating  them  for  ourselves. 

Now,  such  was  the  spirit  of  early  Christianity.  It  shunned 
no  duty  as  insigTiificant,  evaded  no  difiiculty  as  insurmount- 
able, turned  aside  from  no  foe.  Its  zeal  was  a  flame.  Its 
joy,  life  from  the  dead.  Wherev.er  it  moved,  the  altars  of 
heathenism  sunk  around  it ;  the  thrones  of  evil  fell.  One 
interest  prevailed — who  should  approach  nearest  to  the  like- 


230  THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TEUE  MESSIAH. 

iiess  of  Christ,  wliicli  sliould  do  most  for  the  enlargement  of 
His  reign.  Like  their  Lord  and  Eedeemer,  when  apjDroached 
by  the  sceptical,  they  were  found  surrounded  by  the  poor, 
the  guilty,  and  the  wretched.  When  questioned  by  the 
worldly,  they  could  point  to  the  triumphant  change  which 
had  ]3assed  upon  all  this  vileness — they  could  say,  "Such 
were  some  of  you;  but  ye  are  washed,  but  ye  are  justified, 
but  ye  are  sanctified,  in'the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  and  by 
the  Spirit  of  our  God."  In  their  life,  Christianity  was  seen 
teaching  by  example.  To  their  persecutors,  the  language  of 
the  humblest  among  them  was,  "  We  cannot  sj^eak  for  Christ, 
but  we  can  die  for  him.''  And  to  their  revilers,  "  We  do 
not  speak  great  things,  but  we  live  them."  "  The  love  of 
Christ  constrained  them.''     Deeds  begot  deeds. 

And  do  we  not  feel,  as  we  look  around  on  the  Church, 
that  that  which  it  needs  is  the  spirit  to  do  "its  first  works"? 
That  portion  of  it  to  which  we  belong  may  be  nobly  averse 
to  all  worldly  aid  from  without,  but  is  it  equally  averse  to 
all  feebleness  and  worldliness  within  ?  It  may  not  be  rely- 
ing for  tlie  triumphs  of  the  cross  on  the  garlands  or  gems 
with  which  it  may  be  adorned,  nor  on  the  stateliness  and 
splendours  of  the  edifice  in  which  it  is  upr eared,  nor  on  a 
heaven-descending  vision  of  millennial  glory;  but  hath  it 
anything  real,  attractive,  subduing,  in  the  stead  of  all  this  ? 
When  it  hears  the  Saviour  say,  "  Blessed  is  he  that  is  not 
offended  in  me,"  it  may  thrill  with  amazement  that  any 
could  recoil  from  Christ.  It  may  be  ready  to  exclaim, 
"Though  all  men  be  offended  because  of  thee,  yet  will  not  I" 
— it  may  avow  its  glorying  in  the  cross  of  Christ ;  but  is 
it  taking  up  its  own  cross?  Has  it  any  cross  of  its  own? 
Is  it  really  and  truly  a  Church  militant — a  Church  confront- 
ing the  world,  like  an  army  confronting  the  foe — a  Church 
so  superior  to  the  world,  that  it  is  not  felt  to  be  a  sarcasm  to 
say,  that  "  the  world  is  not  Avorthy  of  it  ? "  Instances  of 
great  liberality,  and  zeal,  and  heavenly  excellence  may  not 
be  unknown  to  it;  but  are  they  not  exceptions,  distinguish- 


THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TEUE  MESSIAH.  231 

ing  their  subjects  almost  as  much  from  the  Church  as  they 
do  from  the  world  ?  Taken  as  a  whole,  is  it  not  felt  to  be 
wanting  in  the  spuituality  which  should  place  it  apart  from 
the  world — in  the  power  which  should  place  it  above  the 
world — and  in  the  self-denial  which  shoidd  furnish  it  with 
resources  for  the  recovery  of  the  world  ?  Is  it,  in  any  sense, 
worthy  of  the  name — a  suffering  Church — consciously  suffer- 
ing either  from  the  world,  or  for  it? 

Oh!  what  meant  the  apostle  when  he  tells  us  that  he 
panted  to  "  fill  up  that  which  is  behind  of  the  afflictions  of 
Christ  in  my  flesh,  for  his  body's  sake,  which  is  the  Church''? 
Of  course,  he  meant  not  that  there  was  anything  wanting  to 
the  sufficiency  of  our  Lord's  sufferings  as  an  expiation  for 
sin.  In  this  respect,  they  admit  of  no  supplementation. 
The  cross  stands  alone.  But  it  does  imply  that,  besides  the 
mediatorial  element  in  the  sufferings  of  Christ,  and  which 
admits  of  no  addition,  there  is  also  the  moral  element,  which, 
while  time  shall  last,  is  to  be  ever  receiving  additions,  and  to 
be  filling  up.  It  does  irn^lj  that  there  is  an  aggregate  of 
suffering — a  definite  amount  of  labour  necessary  to  the 
completion  of  the  Church,  of  which  Christ  has  endured  His 
proportion,  and  of  which  each  of  His  faithful  followers  must 
endure  his.  It  does  imply  that  the  trials  of  every  Christian, 
as  such,  are  the  continuation  and  the  complement  of  the 
sufferings  of  Christ.  In  this  sense,  Christ  is  sui^posed  to  be 
still  on  the  earth — the  Church  is  supposed  to  inherit  His 
suffering  condition — is  supposed  to  encounter  and  endure,  as 
His  representative,  what  He  himself  would,  were  He  visibly 
present.     But  where,  I  ask,  are  the  marks  of  this  sufferino? 

o  * 

Has  the  world  laid  diovm  its  weapons?  is  its  enmity  mth  God 
changed  into  friendship?  If  not,  let  the  Church  report  her 
conflicts,  and  shew  her  scars.  If  life  itself  be  a  conflict,  how 
can  he  be  a  Christian  who,  in  addition  to  the  ordinary  trials 
of  humanity,  knows  little  or  nothing  of  the  higher  trials  of 
the  spiritual  life?  If  the  first  ages  of  Christianity,  marked 
as  they  were  by  endurance  and  effort,  were  not  fabulous,  how 


232  THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TRUE  MESSIAH. 

can  that  be  Christianity  which  bears  no  cross,  and  studies 
only  to  avoid  affliction?  The  Church  exists  only  ivhile 
struggling  and  hy  struggling.  She  is  not  a  palace,  but  an 
encamj^ment  on  the  field.  She  is  the  Man  of  sorrows 
personified  and  perpetuated  here  below — an  organic  body,  of 
which  He  is  the  head.  And  her  every  word  should  be  a 
work,  and  her  every  work  an  act  of  holiness  or  of  mercy — 
an  effort  for  her  o^vn  higher  spirituality  or  for  the  world's 
recovery — that  every  aim  of  every  member  might  have  its 
place  and  its  part  in  filling  up  the  measure  of  endurance  and 
effort  necessary  to  her  completion. 

And  do  we  not  f^el,  as  we  look  around  on  the  v/orld,  that 
its  condition  is  one  which  requires  to  be  met  by  deeds? 
Its  antagonism  requires  it;  for  do  v/e  not  know  that  it 
encounters  us  with  deeds  ?  Were  its  opposition  limited  to 
words  only,  it  would  be  harmless;  but  it  embodies  its 
hostility  in  an  ever-wakeful  spirit — in  a  consistent,  all- 
pervading,  laborious  activity — in  institutions  and  agencies 
mighty  for  evil;  and  by  a  similar  embodiment  of  power 
alone  can  it  be  counterworked.  Its  sceptical  inquiries 
demand  it;  for  do  we  not  know  that  the  form  which  its 
scepticism  assumes  at  present  may  be  exactly  expressed  by 
the  question,  "  Art  thou  He  that  should  come,  or  do  w^e  look 
for  another  V  Do  we  not  know  that  it  speaks  of  the  Gospel 
only  as  an  intermediate  step  from  Judaism  to  something 
better — that  so  far  from  regarding  Christianity  as  final,  it 
is  looking  for  the  advent  of  another  dispensation?  And  this 
scepticism  cannot  be  answered  by  words — cannot  be  j^ut  ofi" 
with  pretensions.  On  the  contrary,  words  and  pretensions 
are  the  very  things  which  have  occasioned  and  invited  it. 
Yes,  let  us  not  lavish  all  our  indignation  upon  it;  let  us 
reserve  some,  at  least,  for  ourselves,  as  the  occasions  of  it. 
Men  have  inferred  the  character  of  Christ  from  our  character; 
and  are  they  not  justified  in  being  dissatisfied  with  Him — 
in  looking  out  for  anotlier?  Oh,  let  us  imdeceive  them ;  let 
us  tell  them — practically  tell  them — that  though  our  Christ 


THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TRUE  MESSIAH.  233 

may  appear  to  be  one  of  little  more  than  words,  the  Christ 
of  the  New  Testament  is  one  whose  words  are  works,  whose 
works  are  wonders,  whose  wonders  are  mercies,  and  whose 
mercies  exactly  meet  the  inquiries  they  are  making.  And 
do  we  not  know  that  the  wants  of  the  world  require  it  ? 
Myriads,  involved  in  the  darkness  of  heathenism,  have  not 
yet  heard  that  Christ  has  been  in  the  world.  The  Church 
has  not  yet  performed  the  preliminary  work  of  making  Him 
known.  They  are  still  pining  for  a  deliverer;  perishing  in 
ignorance  that  "the  Father  hath  sent  the  Son  to  be  the 
Saviour  of  the  world.''  And  of  those  who  do  know  the 
historic  fact  of  His  coming,  how  large  a  proportion  live  and 
die  in  ignorance  of  His  gracious  character — His  saving 
designs !  Brethren,  ours  is  a  sublime  trust — a  solemn 
responsibility — to  make  kno^Aai  to  our  fellow-men  a  wonder- 
working Saviour  by  corresponding  deeds. 

And,  finally,  who  does  not  feel  in  harmony  with  these 
views,  that  the  erection  of  this  place  will  fall  in  with  the 
designs  of  Christ  only  as  it  leads  to  Christian  doings  ?  The 
most  copious  prayers,  unless  they  bring  down  the  Simit 
of  God,  and  the  most  eloquent  preaching,  unless  it  affects 
the  sj)irits  of  men,  are  mere  words.  But  let  the  Holy  Spirit 
be  here  brought  into  contact  with  human  spirits,  and  the 
result  will  be  works — deeds  of  liberahty,  visits  of  mercy, 
schools  for  the  young,  institutions  of  charity — an  organisa- 
tion of  living,  labouring  piety.  For  an  answer  to  the 
doubting  and  the  inquiring,  you  will  be  able  to  point  to 
your  works — to  God's  works,  wrought  through  you — to  the 
greatest  of  all  his  works,  spiritual  transformations — "new 
creatures  in  Christ  Jesus."  These  transcend  the  miracles 
wrought  in  the  presence  of  John's  disciples.  These  are  the 
works  of  which  the  Saviour  said,  "He  that  believeth  on 
me,  the  works  that  I  do  shall  he  do  also,  and  greater  works 
than  these  shall  he  do."  You  will  be  able  to  say  to  in- 
quirers, "  Go,  and  report  what  things  ye  see  and  hear — the 
spiritually  blind  receive  their  sight,  the  deaf  hear,  demons 


2o4<  THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TEUE  BIESSIAH. 

are  cast  out,  tlie  dead  in  sin  are  raised,  tlie  kingdom  of  God 
is  come  nigh  unto  you/' 

Dear  friends,  am  I  wrong  in  supjiosing  tliat  all  present  are 
not  the  sj^iritual  subjects  of  that  kingdom  ?  And  can  I  be 
wrono'  in  addressino;  to  them  one  word  of  exhortation  ? 
Often,  doubtless,  have  you  mingled  with  the  great  congre- 
gation, and  listened  to  the  a2:)peals  of  mercy — bu *}  hitherto  in 
vain.  Like  the  disciples  of  John,  you  have  gone  into  the 
presence  of  Christ — have  stood  near  the  scene  of  his  wonder- 
working grace — have  been  surrounded  by  the  living  miracles 
of  His  mercy;  were  you  conscious  of  no  desire  to  have  the 
great  change  pass  upon  you  ?  Like  the  bhnd  and  the  deaf, 
the  diseased  and  the  dying,  on  that  occasion,  you  may  be 
said  to  have  been  almost  under  the  shadow  of ♦  His  uplifted 
hand — within  the  circle  of  His  life-giving  breath.  Oh!  by 
what  malignant  influence  have  you  come  forth  from  time  to 
time  unblessed  and  unsaved  ?  But  once  more  you  have 
come  into  His  i^rcsence — once  more.  Have  you  never  known 
the  deep  mortification  of  finding  that  you  had  unconsciously 
been,  on  some  public  occasion,  near  a  loved  friend,  or  a  dis- 
tinguished personage,  without  ever  recognizing  his  j^resence? 
Oh !  at  this  moment,  "  there  standeth  one  among  you  whom 
ye  know  not."  Do  you  not  see  Him  ?  He  is  close  by  you. 
Do  you  not  feel  Him  ?  He  is  actually  speaking  to  you.  Do 
you  not  hear  Him,  asking,  "Wilt  thou  be  made  whole?" 
But  think  you  that  He  comes  for  less  than  to  seek  and  to 
save  that  which  is  lost  ?  And  can  you,  as  one  of  the  lost, 
be  here  for  less  than  to  be  saved  by  Him  ?  Oh,  oj^en  the 
door  of  your  soul,  and  He  will  come  in  unto  you — will  make 
your  conscience  His  seat,  your  heart  His  altar,  your  regene- 
rated spirit  His  living  temple.  And  in  that  day  when  He 
shall  surround  Himself  with  all  the  trophies  of  His  grace, 
you  shall  be  present  as  a  miracle  of  His  saving  power. 


CHKIST  S  LONGING  FOE  THE  COMPLETION  OF  HIS  WOllK.     235 


SEEMON  X. 

Christ's  longing  for  the  completion  of  his  work. 

Luke  xii.  50— "  I  have  a  baptism  to  be  baptized  with;   and  how  am  I 
straitened  till  it  be  accomphshed!" 

Both  this  verse  and  that  which  jDrececles  it  partake  of  the 
obscurity  which  generally  belongs  to  language  uttered  in 
great  mental  agitation.  Taken  together,  they  may  be 
paraphrased  thus — "I  foresee  that  the  propagation  of  my 
Gospel  will,  through  the  wickedness  of  man,  involve  the 
earth  in  the  flames  of  discord;  yet,  what  do  I  wish?  So 
distinctly  do  I  foresee  that  such  incidental  evils  will  be  more 
than  compensated  by  the  blessings  of  the  Gospel,  that  I 
could  wish  those  flames  were  already  kindled.  But  in  order 
to  procure  those  blessings,  I  foresee  that  I  myself  must  first 
be  overwhelmed  with  suflering — be  baptized  with  blood. 
And  so  intensely  do  I  long  for  the  accomplishment  of  human 
redemption,  that,  be  that  suffering  what  it  may,  I  am 
impatient — distressed — for  its  arrival  and  comj)letion.'' 

This,  to  my  mind,  is  one  of  the  most  solemn  and  sublime 
passages  in  the  Word  of  God.  The  Saviour  could  not  have 
uttered  it  in  ordinary  tones.  It  came  from  the  mysterious 
depths  of  His  heart.  The  tuhole  of  His  nature  uttered  it- 
Divine  and  human.  The  thrilling  exclamations  which  he 
soon  afterwards  uttered  in  his  agony,  were  simply  the 
language  of  his  suffering,  shrinking  humanity — the  language 
of  the  Son  of  man ;  this  was  the  lano-uao-e  of  the  Son  of  God, 
looking   beyond   that  sufi'ering   to  its  sublime  results,  and 


236  cheist's  longing  for  the 

ea<rer  to  endure  it  in  order  that  He  mio;lit  attain  tliose  results. 
Who  present  is  in  a  state  of  mind  to  symjoathize  with  it? 
And  yet  to  enter  on  the  consideration  of  it  without  such 
sympathy,  to  rush  into  it  as  into  an  ordinary  subject,  is  like 
intruding  on  the  privacy  and  devotion  of  the  Son  of  God — 
like  breaking  upon  the  sacred  sorrows  of  Gethsemane.  May 
the  Spirit  of  Christ  take  of  the  things  involved  in  this 
Scrij)ture,  explain  them  to  our  minds,  and  impress  them  on 
our  hearts ! 

The  great  truth  which  the  text  exhibits,  is  the  entire  and 
intense  devotedness  of  Christ  to  the  completion  of  His 
mediatorial  suffering,  with  a  view  to  its  subsequent  and 
sublime  results.  And  we  propose  to  shew,  firstly,  that  He 
uniformly  felt  and  exhibited  the  intense  concern  which  the 
text  expresses  for  the  completion  of  His  work;  to  specify, 
secondly,  the  reasons  for  His  solicitude ;  thirdly,  to  shew  that 
His  concern  for  human  salvation  is  still  unabated;  and, 
fourthly,  to  point  out  the  effect  which  it  should  have  on 
our  Christian  devotedness. 


We  have  to  shew,  first,  that  the  Sa\dour  uniformly 
exhibited  the  deep  concern  which  the  text  expresses  for  the 
completion  of  His  mediatorial  work  on  earth. 

1.  To  say  that  He  had  not  been  beguiled  or  surprised  into 
the  work  of  our  redemption,  would  be  saying  but  little.  He 
had  undertaken  it  intelligently,  and  with  the  distinct  foresight 
of  all  the  liabilities  which  it  involved.  He  had  looked  into 
the  darkest  recesses  of  depravity  in  the  human  heart,  and  had 
sounded  the  lowest  dej^ths  of  human  misery,  before  He  came 
to  expiate  the  one  or  relieve  the  other.  Yet,  having  taken  a 
survey  of  all  that  would  be  required  from  the  surety  of 
sinners — having  cast  up  and  pondered  the  mighty  sum  of 
guilt  to  be  cancelled,  and  measured  with  His  eye  the  thunder- 
stores  of  wrath  which  must  be  exliausted,  and  fathomed  the 
pit.  which  to  them  was  bottomless — he  pressed  His  entire 


COlilPLETION  OF  HIS  WOEK.  237 

responsibiKty  to  His  heart  and  addressed  Himself  to   the 
mighty  task. 

2.  To  say  that  He  had  not  been  forced  into  the  great 
undertaking,  would  be  saying  but  little.  There  is  a  large 
class  of  Sacred  Scriptures  which  shew  that,  in  saving  man, 
He  was  only  obeying  the  spontaneous  dictates,  and  gratifying 
the  compassionate  yearnings  of  His  own  heart.  He  assumed 
life  for  the  express  purpose  of  laying  it  down.  He  shewed 
that  His  heart  was  full  of  a  purpose  formed  from  eternity. 
No  scene  of  trial  could  take  Him  by  sm^jnise — no  hour  of 
suffering  find  Him  unprepared.  He  saw,  as  from  a  height, 
the  whole  array  of  duty  and  trial  which  avraited  Him ;  and 
the  only  emotion  He  evinced  at  the  sight  was  a  self-consuming 
ardour  to  reach  the  cross  which  stood  at  the  end  of  His  path 
— a  holy  impatience  to  be  baptized  with  that  baptism  of 
blood. 

3.  To  say  that  the  ardour  evinced  in  the  text  for  the  com- 
pletion of  His  work  was  not  of  new  or  sudden  growth,  would 
be  saying  but  little.  A  large  and  interesting  class  of  Scrip- 
tures exist  to  prove  that  there  never  was  a  moment  in  which, 
even  2^'i^ior  to  His  incarnation,  He  did  not  anticipate  its  com- 
pletion with  similar  intensity  of  desire.  When  the  new- 
made  world  first  roEed  round  to  His  eye  the  habitable  parts 
of  the  earth,  "  Then,''  saith  He,  "  my  delights  were  with  the 
sons  of  men" — His  mind  sprang  forwards  to  embrace  and 
bless  them.  AYhen  He  sav/  the  insufficiency  of  animal  sacri- 
fices to  atone  for  sin,  and  beheld,  by  antici^^ation,  the  body 
in  v/hich  He  was  to  "take  away  the  sin  of  the- world,''  He 
exclaimed,  "  Lo,  I  come" — "  A  body  hast  thou  prepared  me" 
— "I  delight  to  do  thy  will,  0  my  God;"  as  if  nothing  but 
the  immutable  arrangements  of  God  could  have  prevented 
His  coming  and  completing  His  sacrificial  engagements  at 
once.  And  when  from  the  bosom  of  the  Father  He  looked 
on  through  the  ages  of  time — marked  the  successive  parts  of 
His  great  undertaldng,  as  it  seemed  to  pass  in  slow  and 
stately  procession,  till  He  beheld  the  scene  of  the  rising  dead, 


238  cheist's  longing  foe  the 

all  tlie  intermediate  ages  seemed  instantly  to  vanish.  He 
saw  in  anticipation  the  Iving  of  terrors  disarmed  beneath 
His  feet,  the  world  flooded  with  light  and  life,  the  song  of 
mjnriads  reached  His  ear,  shouting  His  name  as  their  great 
Deliverer,  and  with  holy  impatience  to  realize  the  scene.  He 
exclaimed,  "  I  will  ransom  them  from  the  power  of  the  grave; 
I  will  redeem  them  from  death  !  0  death,  I  will  be  thy 
plagues !  0  grave,  I  will  be  thy  destruction ! ''  In  uttering 
the  language  of  the  text,  therefore.  He  was  only  expressing 
the  sentiment  of  easier  devotedness  to  His  mediatorial  work 
which  He  had  felt  from  before  the  foundation  of  the  world. 

4.  To  say  that  He  did  not  neglect  the  work  which  was  given 
Him  to  do,  would  be  sajdng  but  little.  "My  meat,"  said  He, 
"is  to  do  the  will  of  him  that  sent  me,  and  to  finish  his 
work" — in  other  words.  His  devotedness  luas  entire.  "For 
their  sakes,"'  said  He,  "  I  sanctify  myself" — and  He  did  so. 
He  set  Himself  apart  to  the  wants  and  sorrows  of  earth. 
The  salvation  of  man  occupied  His  thoughts  from  the  first 
moment  to  the  last  of  His  continuance  npon  earth.  All  the 
paths  of  human  ambition  were  open  and  accessible  to  Him; 
but  He  passed  them  all  by.  All  the  kingdoms  of  the  world, 
and  the  glory  of  them,  were  laid  at  His  feet;  but  He  saw 
them  as  if  He  saw  them  not.  With  a  sinoie  sentence  He 
could  have  flashed  light  on  the  darkest  mysteries  of  j^hilo- 
sophy ;  but  He  would  not  thus  debase  His  mission—He  would 
not  spare  a  single  moment  from  teaching  that  higher  science, 
the  knowledge  of  salvation.  He  had  ears  only  for  one 
sound — and  that  was  the  voice  of  penitence  imploring  for- 
giveness— the  voice  of  fear  and  conscious  guilt  dei^recating 
the  vengeance  of  eternal  fire,  and  crying  for  relief  He  had 
eyes  only  for  one  sight — and  that  was  the  misery  of  man — 
the  sj^ectacle  of  a  world  invaded,  ruined,  lost,  and  moving 
along  in  chains  to  the  pit  of  perdition.  This  object  filled  the 
whole  sj^here  of  His  vision;  He  could  see  nothing  else;  and 
had  all  the  thrones  of  earth  been  vacant,  and  invited  His 
acceptance,  it  would  not  have  induced  Him  to  diverge  a 


COMPLETION  OF  HIS  WOEK.  239 

single  step  from  the  path  which  led  direct  to  the  cross.  He 
had  tears  but  for  one  sorrow — and  He  wept  them  over  lost 
souls.  So  fully  was  He  possessed  with  the  vastness  of  His 
designs,  that  He  valued  moments,  faculties,  life  itself  only  as 
the  means  of  working  it  out;  and  through  every  stej)  of  His 
course  He  brought  the  whole  of  His  glory  to  bear  on  its  com- 
jDletion.  Though  all  the  fulness  and  fire  of  the  passions 
dwelt  in  Him,  never  did  He  waste  a  sinoie  feelino-  but 
devoted  the  whole  as  consecrated  fuel  for  offering  uj)  the 
great  sacrifice  in  which  His  life  was  consumed,  and  by  which 
the  world  might  be  saved. 

5.  And  not  only  was  His  devotedness  entire,  including  the 
consecration  of  all  His  powers,  it  was  eager  and  intense,  not 
allomng  the  unnecessary  delay  of  a  moment,  nor  admitting 
of  the  slightest  increase.  To  say  that  four  thousand  years 
were  allowed  to  elapse  prior  to  His  advent,  is  no  objection 
whatever  to  this  statement.  It  only  reminds  us  that  His 
devotedness,  ardent  as  it  w^as,  was  yet  regulated  by  wisdom — 
that  His  zeal  was  not  the  zeal  of  improvident  precipitation — 
that  He  did  not  sacrifice  one  interest  to  another — that  He 
acted  on  a  large  and  comprehensive  plan — ^that  the  great 
object  of  His  devotedness  was  to  reconcile  all  the  true 
interests  of  the  universe  together — and  that  for  some  of  these 
He  had  to  wait — others  to  prepare  for — all  of  them  to  adjust 
according  to  their  respective  claims.  To  say,  then,  that  four 
thousand  years  elapsed  prior  to  His  advent,  is  no  objection 
whatever.  It  should  be  remembered  that,  as  far  as  man  was 
concerned,  the  means  of  salvation  were  not  meanwhile  with- 
held— that  during  the  whole  of  that  time,  mercy  was  all 
the  day  long  stretching  out  her  arms  to  save.  It  should  be 
remembered,  too,  that  our  interests  were  not  the  only 
interests  to  be  considered — that  other  orders  of  being  were 
interested — that  all  the  great  principles  of  the  Divine  govern- 
ment were  involved — that  what  was  taking  place  during  all 
that  time,  was  taking  place  in  the  eyes  of  the  universe,  and 
for  all  the  ages  of  eternity.      There  was  a  sense  in  which 


240  cheist's  longing  foe  the 

Judea  had  to  be  prepared  as  tlie  theatre  of  the  great  trans- 
action— there  was  a  sense  in  which  the  world  had  to  be 
prepared,  in  which  the  great  moral  questions  of  its  guilt,  its 
ever-increasing  depravity,  its  utter  helplessness,  had  to  be 
worked  out  and  demonstrated — there  was  a  sense  in  which 
the  inhabitants  of  heaven  itself  had  to  be  morally  prepared 
for  witnessing,  appreciating,  and  j^rofiting  by  the  great  event. 
Not  a  mojnent  was  lost — not  a  moment  elapsed  which  was 
not  charged  with  its  appointed  duty,  and  which  did  not 
behold  every  interest  concerned  travelling  with  the  rapidity 
of  light  to  the  appointed  issue.  Hence  it  was  that  the 
fulness  of  time  had  no  sooner  arrived  than  the  Saviour 
aj)peared.  Yes,  we  believe  that  it  will  be  only  necessary  for 
us  to  see  in  the  light  of  eternity  how  many  ends  were 
answered,  prior  to  the  incarnation  of  Christ,  in  order  to  be 
convinced  that  nothing  less  than  the  most  intense  devotedness 
could  so  soon  have  brought  them  to  pass — that  during  the 
whole  of  that  time,  as  He  saw  the  j^reparation  for  His  advent 
advancing  from  stage  to  stage,  the  language  of  His  conduct 
was,  "  How  am  I  straitened  tiU  it  be  accomplished !  '* 

To  say,  again,  that  thirty  years  elapsed  after  His  advent 
before  He  publicly  entered  on  His  ministerial  work,  is  no 
objection  to  this  representation.  The  probability  is,  not  only 
that  His  private  life  was,  in  this  respect,  in  perfect  kee2:)ing 
with  His  public  course,  but  that  it  was  necessary  to  it;  that 
but  for  His  years  of  privacy.  His  years  of  j^ublicity  would  not 
have  presented  the  sublime  spectacle  which  they  do ;  tliat 
during  all  that  time  He  was,  as  man,  acquiring  that  greatness 
of  mind,  that  nobleness  of  sentiment,  that  depth  and  delicacy 
of  feeling,  that  moral  fitness,  of  which  His  public  life  was 
only  the  visible  expression.  Besides,  be  it  remembered  that 
the  great  design  of  His  advent  was  the  expiation  of  human 
guilt;  and  that,  in  order  to  the  j^erfection  of  His  sacrifice, 
the  perfection  of  His  humanity  was  indisjoensable,  and  this 
required  that  He  should  reach  matuiity.  There  is  reason  to 
conclude,  therefore,  that  His  path  from  the  throne  to  the 


COMPLETION  OF  HIS  WOLK.  211 

cross  was  direct ;  that  every  step  He  took  bronght  Him  nearer 
to  it;  that  never  did  a  candidate  for  the  imze  press  towards 
the  mark  more  earnestly  than  He  pressed  towards  the  altar 
of  sacrifice;  that  so  eagerly  was  He  bent  on  reaching  it,  that 
a  frecxuent  and  enlarged  survey  of  all  the  interests  concerned 
was  necessary  in  order  to  restrain  Him  from  hastening  at 
once  to  its  comj^letion.  There  is  reason  to  believe  that,  during 
the  whole  of  His  continuance  on  earth,  His  sensibilities  were 
all  in  activity  and  excitement;  that  the  perishing  condition 
of  man  made  a  constant  demand,  a  perpetual  drain  on  His 
pity,  sufficient  to  exhaust  every  heart  but  One,  which  was 
daily  replenished  at  the  fountain  of  compassion  itself  Yes, 
there  is  reason  to  believe  that  He  endured  at  times  paroxysms 
of  anguish  so  great,  that  no  compound  of  mortal  elements, 
unless  supernaturally  sustained,  could  have  outhved  them; 
that  His  course  would  have  been  much  sooner  run — that  He 
would  have  fallen,  exhausted  in  body  and  mind,  before  the 
cross  was  reached — had  He  not  lived  in  immediate  commu- 
nication with  a  hidden  source  of  inexhaustible  streno-th. 

11. 

But  why  this  eager  and  intense  desire  to  reach  the  goal  of 
His  humiliation  ?  Surely  He  was  not  in  love  with  suifering ! 
Surely  He  did  not  overrate  the  importance  of  the  results 
dependent  on  it !  Let  us  proceed,  secondly,  to  sj)ecify  some 
of  the  reasons  which  account  for  it,  and  we  shall  find  that  it 
was  not  only  exjilicable  and  justifiable,  but  infinitely  neces- 
sary— well  for  a  guilty  world  that  His  zeal  was  not  a  particle 
less. 

1.  For  what?  He  had  undertaken  to  minister  to  the  relief 
of  a  world  groaning  in  its  misery — and  all  that  misery  was 
before  Him.  He  did  not — by  necessity  of  nature  He  could 
not — content  Himself,  as  we  do,  with  vague  impressions  of 
human  woe.  He  saw  it  with  a  distinctness  and  felt  it  with 
a  power  which  made  it  all  His  own.  Wherever  He  looked, 
He  saw  scenes  and  wastes  of  human  woe — scenes  in  which 

Q 


242  CHRIST'S  LONGING  FOR  THE 

tlie  only  objects  which  met  His  eye  were  the  chains  of  cap- 
tivity, the  pains  of  superstition,  the  struggles  of  poverty,  the 
disappointments  of  ambition,  the  misgivings  of  the  self- 
righteous,  the  exhausted  efforts  of  the  sinner,  lashed  by  the 
reproaches  of  an  angry  conscience,  and  labouring  to  escape 
from  a  load  of  guilt.  Whenever  He  listened.  He  heard  the 
thickening  cries  of  misery;  His  ear  caught  a  sigh  or  a  sound 
of  woe  from  every  habitation,  every  breast  of  man — a  never- 
ebbing  tide  of  the  sounds  of  anguish,  strife,  and  death.  And 
as  He  looked  on  the  living  mass  of  misery,  heaving,  and 
surging,  and  travailing  in  pain  together,  and  remembered  that 
it  v/as  a  chained  and  laden  j^ower  wrestling  with  its  bondage, 
striving  to  rise,  yearning  after  a  something  undefined,  and 
which  His  Gospel  alone  could  supply,  He  felt  that  its  every 
sigh  and  its  every  struggle  was,  in  effect,  a  distinct  appeal 
that  He  would  hasten  the  work  of  deliverance,  and  He  was 
straitened  until  the  work  was  accomplished. 

2.  But  there  was  more  than  misery  to  be  remedied — there 
was  guilt,  the  cause  of  it  all — and  that  He  had  undertaken 
to  atone  for.  He  knew  the  history  of  sin.  He  had  seen  it 
in  its  awful  origin,  expelling  the  angels  from  heaven,  and 
preparing  for  them  a  hell ;  and  He  knew  that,  had  justice 
taken  its  natural  course,  man  would  have  shared  the  same 
fate.  But  He  had  averted  the  stroke.  He  had  eno-ao-ed  to 
render  compensation  in  His  own  person.  On  the  ground  of 
that  engagement  man  had  been  spared.  Ages  had  elaj^sed 
since  then ;  and  He  knew  that  during  every  moment  of  the 
time,  man  had  gone  on,  aggravating  His  guilt  in  every  possible 
way,  and  outraging  the  government  of  God;  and  that,  con- 
sequently, every  principle  of^that  government  had  been  cry- 
ing louder  and  louder  for  the  promised  compensation,  till 
now  these  cries  had  reached  a  height  which  proclaimed 
that  the  hour  of  atonement  had  come,  and  that  to  delay  it 
would  be  to  shake  every  pillar  of  the  Divine  government  and 
to  involve  the  earth  in  instant  flames.  Perfectly  sympathizing, 
therefore,  as  He  did  with  those  outraged  laws— feeling  as 


COMPLETION  OF  HIS  WOKK.  243 

He  did  that  they  were  all  looking  to  Him  for  vindication 

and  knowing  as  He  did  what  would  be  the  just  but  tremen- 
dous alternative  were  they  to  be  disaiDpointed  of  their  expected 
due,  He  pressed  tov/ards  the  cross,  and  confessed  Himself 
straitened  till  the  great  crisis  had  passed. 

3.  But  more  still.  There  was  more  than  the  misery  of  man 
to  be  remedied — more  than  the  rights  of  justice  to  be  satis- 
fied ;  there  was  the  character  of  God  to  be  embodied  and  made 
manifest  as  the  God  of  love— and  He  had  undertaken  that. 
*'  Oh,  righteous  Father,"  said  He,  "  the  world  hath  not  known 
thee  I"  And  hence  its  alienation  from  Thee.  And  He  knew 
that,  as  all  our  alienation  had  arisen  from  our  disbelief  of  the 
love  of  God,  so  the  recovery  of  our  affections  depended  on  His 
reimpressmg  the  conviction  of  that  love  upon  our  hearts. 
But  how  shall  this  be  done?  Has  not  God  been  aiming  at 
it  already  for  thousands  of  years  ?  What  can  the  nature  of 
that  act  be  which  shall  effect  it  now — which  shall  at  once  do 
justice  to  the  love  of  God,  and  shame  or  melt  the  world  into 
the  belief  of  it  ?  One  act  there  was,  and  only  one,  and  hence 
His  eagerness  to  perform  it — "  the  Son  of  man  must  be  lifted 
up."  In  that  act  the  heart  of  God  himself  will  be  seen 
beating  and  bleeding  for  human  salvation.  Beyond  that  act 
even  infinite  compassion  itself  cannot  go.  After  that  act  all 
the  holy  universe  will  unite  in  attesting  that  God  is  love. 
And  hence  the  anxiety  of  Christ  to  perform  the  act  which 
should  prove  it.  For  to  wipe  off  every  stain  from  the 
character  of  God,  and  to  present  it  in  its  real  glory,  infinitely 
outweighed  with  Him  every  other  consideration. 

4.  And  this  reminds  us  of  another  reason  to  account  for 
His  eagerness  to  reach  the  cross — the  glory  which  should 
accrue  to  God  in  the  salvation  of  mankind.  He  knew  that 
by  dying  He  should  not  merely  vindicate  the  character  of 
God— not  merely  win  for  it  the  admiration  of  heaven — but 
that  a  number  which  no  man  can  number  would  be  redeemed 
from  among  men.  He  kneiu  this.  There  rveie  times  v/hen 
the  vision  came  before  Him — when  He  saw  the  darkness  of 


244  cheist's  lokgikg  foe  the 

cartli  rolled  away,  and  tlie  world  flooded  with  light  and  life 
— when  He  saw  the  myriads  of  the  saved  in  heaven  casting 
their  crowns  at  His  feet,  and  ascribing  their  salvation  to  God 
and  to  the  Lamb.  And  for  the  joy  thus  set  before  Him  He 
was  eager  to  endure  the  cross,  despising  the  shame.  Yes,  in 
projDortion  to  the  grandeur  of  the  results  dependent  on  it,  was 
the  strength  of  His  ardour  to  endure  it;  and  in  j)ro23ortion  to 
that,  He  felt  straitened  until  it  was  endured. 

The  pillars  of  human  hope  had  been  gradually  bending  in 
and  leaning  on  Him  with  greater  and  still  greater  pressure, 
till  now  His  hand  upheld  the  whole — how  earnestly  did  He 
long  to  erect  and  announce  the  cross  as  the  stay  and  su})pi)rb 
of  the  sinking  world!  From  the  beginning  of  time  every 
being,  from  every  quarter  of  the  Divine  dominions,  may  be 
said  to  have  been  looking  to  Him  and  collecting  around  Him, 
till  now  they  pressed  upon  Him  on  all  sides  round.  Every 
lover  of  mercy  was  there — every  minister  of  Divine  justice 
— every  friend  of  man.  He  saw  that  there  was  not  an  eye 
which  was  not  fixed  on  Him — felt  that  there  w\as  not  a  single 
principle  which  Vv^as  not  resting  on  Him  entirely  for  support. 
Oh,  if  there  be  a  passage  in  Scripture,  the  meaning  of  vvliich 
we  must  die  in  order  to  comprehend,  it  is  that  which  the 
Saviour  uttered  when  at  this  crisis  He  exclaimed,  as  if  He  felfc 
all  the  infinite  capabilities  of  His  nature  in  stress,  "  Hov/  am 
I  straitened  till  it  be  accomplished ! ''  And  if  there  be  a  passage, 
the  meaning  of  which  it  will  require  an  eternity  fully  to 
expand,  it  is  that  which  He  uttered  the  moment  the  work  was 
accomplished,  "It  is  finished ! '' — words,  I  apprehend,  meant 
more  for  heaven  than  earth — meant  more  for  the  ear  of 
invisible  beings — words  for  which  whole  orders  of  beings  had 
been  held  in  anxious  suspense — and  to  hear  which  the  uni- 
verse had  been  hushed  into  breathless  silence.  Often,  we  may 
suppose,  had  cherubim  and  scrai^him  asked  with  intense 
concern,  "  Has  the  crisis  come?  Is  the  great  transaction 
ipast?"  And  as  often  as  they  heard  that  it  was  yet  to  come, 
their  concern  for  the  issue  grew  more  intense.     When,  there- 


COMPLETION  OF  HIS  WOEK.  245 

fore,  at  length  the  words  were  uttered,  pangs  of  iinknovrii 
solicitude  were  allayed — a  burden  fell  from  the  minds  of  the 
blessed — the  universe  breathed  more  freely — the  announce- 
ment was  transmitted  like  lightning  from  rank  to  rank  of  the 
intelligent  creation,  till  the  remotest  region  resounded  with 
the  glad  rejoort — the  Gospel  of  heaven — "It  is  finished!'^ 
Now,  it  was  with  the  distinct  foresiofht  that  such,  and  fiii 
more,  would  be  the  sublime  result  of  His  death,  and  with  the 
intense  desire  that  such  should  be,  that  He  now  travailed  ir, 
soul,  and  was  in  pangs  for  its  accompUshment. 

III. 

But  we  have  to  shew,  thirdly,  that  though  the  great  crisis 
is  passed,  the  concern  of  Christ  for  the  salvation  of  man  is 
undiminished.  True,  as  far  as  that  concern  involved  suffer- 
ing, it  has  ceased.  All  that  was  toilsome  He  hath  done — all 
that  was  penal  He  hath  exhausted — the  cup  of  suffering  He 
hath  drained — the  ignominy  is  ended,  never,  never  to  be 
repeated.  "  He  dieth  no  more.''  "  It  is  finished."  But  the 
concern  expressed  in  the  text  looked  beyond  that  I  He 
viewed  the  cross  only  as  a  means  to  an  end  ;  so  that  if  He 
longed  to  reach  it,  it  was  not  merely  that  He  might  pass  it, 
but  that  He  might  then  attain  that  end  beyond.  All  tlie 
concern,  therefore,  which  He  once  felt  to  reach  the  cross 
is  now  transferred  to  the  accomplishment  of  that  end  f  )r 
which  He  reached  it.  All  the  Divine  solicitude  which 
once  bore  Him  on  to  the  cross  is  now  impelling  Him  for- 
wards to  that  end ;  and  the  language  of  all  His  conduct 
concernmg  it  is,  "How  am  I  straitened  till  it  be  accom- 
plished !"  Are  we  asked  to  prove  this?  Besides  the  nature 
and  necessity  of  the  case,  to  which  we  have  just  adverted, 
we  might  remind  you  of  the  doctrines  and  disclosures  of 
Scripture  on  the  subject. 

1.  AYould  you  admit  that  a  person  discovered  urgency  for 
an  object  if  he  lost  not  a  moment  in  arranging  for  its  attain- 
ment ?     No  sooner  had  the  Saviour  emerged  from  the  tomb 


246  cheist's  longing  foe  the 

than  He  summoned  His  disciples,  and  began  to  prepare  tliem 
for  their  mission  to  the  ends  of  the  earth. 

2.  Does  a  person  discover  intense  concern  for  an  object,  if 
he  consecrates  all  his  power  to  its  attainment  ?  The  Saviom- 
did  this.  As  soon  as  He  could  say  in  His  mediatorial  capa- 
city, "  All  power  is  mine,''  He  added,  "  Go  preach  the  Gospel 
to  every  creature,''  intimating  that  the  only  use  He  proposes 
to  make  of  all  power  is  to  promote  the  ends  for  which  He 
died.  As  if,  having  entered  the  spacious  treasury  of  God, 
and  taken  account  of  all  its  riches — having  reckoned  up  all 
the  orders  of  heavenly  beings,  and  marked  their  respective 
capacities  for  His  service — having  looked  down  through  all 
the  ages  of  time,  counted  its  generations,  and  numbered  its 
events,  He  had  said, 

"All  these  shall  ultimately  be  harmonized,  combined,  and 
made  contributory  to  the  one  object  of  human  salvation. 
Vast  as  is  the  space  they  occupy,  there  is  not  a  point  in 
all  that  space  which  shall  not  in  some  way  be  impressed  mtli 
the  signs  of  their  activity — a  theatre  less  ample  would  not 
be  adequate  to  the  development  of  my  plan.  Diversified  as 
are  the  influences  they  are  calculated  to  exert,  and  even 
hostile  as  many  of  them  are  to  my  ^lurpose,  there  is  not  one 
of  them  all  which  cannot  and  which  shall  not  yield  its 
pro2:)ortion  of  willing  or  unwilling  service.  And  distant  as 
is  the  period  when  the  last  soul  shall  be  saved,  there  shall 
not  be  a  moment  through  the  whole  of  the  mighty  interval 
in  which  all  these  countless  and  far-reachino;  ao-encies  shall 
not  be  gradually  contracting  their  sphere  of  operation,  con- 
centrating their  power,  and  bringing  their  whole  influence 
to  bear  more  directly  and  fully  on  that  grand  consummation. 
All  power  is  mine  in  heaven  and  in  earth;  go  ye,  therefore, 
and  i^rcach  the  gospel.'' 

3.  Does  a  person  discover  intense  concern  for  an  object  if 
he  not  only  consecrates  all  his  own  power  to  it,  but  if  the 
first  use  which  he  makes  of  that  power  be  to  secure  and 
employ  the   agency  of  others?     In  the  loftiest  sense,   the 


COaiPLETION  OF  HIS  WOEK.  247 

Saviour  did  this.  The  first  agency  which  He  engaged  after 
He  ascended  the  mediatorial  throne  was  that  of  the  Holy- 
Spirit — the  great  agent  of  the  universe.  And  the  express, 
the  only  object  of  His  coming  was,  not  to  speak  of  Himself 
but  of  Christ — to  testify  of  Christ — to  glorify  Christ — to 
convince  the  world  of  sin,  and  convert  it  to  Christ. 

Not  more  entirely  did  the  Saviour  devote  and  set  Himself 
apart  to  the  work  of  human  salvation  than  the  Spirit  came 
and  set  Himself  apart  to  glorify  Christ,  by  promoting  the 
ends  for  which  He  died. 

And  what  must  be  His  estimate  of  the  work  of  Christ, 
that  He  should  thus,  in  a  sense,  be  content  to  be  silent  con- 
cerning; Himself,  in  order  that  the  world  mio'ht  resound  with 
nothing  but  the  claims  of  Christ — to  conceal  His  own  splen- 
dour, that  the  eye  of  the  world  might  rest  undisturbed  on 
Christ  alone!  And  what  urgency  does  it  stamp  on  the 
accomplishment  of  those  ends,  that  His  agency  should  be 
engaged  to  secure,  them  ;  and  that,  till  they  are  secured,  that 
agency  should,  in  effect,  be  engaged  in  nothing  else — be  exclu- 
sively devoted  to  this ! 

4.  Does  a  person  discover  intense  concern  for  an  object,  if 
he  commands  and  lays  under  tribute  the  instrumentality  of 
every  one  belonging  to  him  for  its  attainment?  The  Saviour 
has  done  this.  Not  one  of  all  His  followers  is  allowed  to 
claim  exemption.  "  He  that  is  not  with  me,''  saith  Christ, 
and  during  every  moment  in  which  he  is  not  with  me,  "is 
against  me.'' 

Lax  views  on  this  subject  are  the  origin  of  much  of  that 
inferior  jDiety  by  which  the  Chm^ch  is  enfeebled,  and  its 
usefulness  imjoaired.  Thousands  of  professing  Christians 
seem  to  proceed  on  the  supposition,  that  there  is  a  sense  in 
v,diich  they  are  still  partially  their  own — that  there  are 
considerable  portions  of  time  in  which  they  are  at  perfect 
liberty  to  relax  and  stand  at  ease — that,  at  such  times,  their 
conduct  is  quite  neutral  in  its  influence — that  anything  short 
of  positive  hostility  against  Christ  is  to  be  regarded  as  so 


248  CHRIST'S  LONGING  FOR  THE 

mucli  service  clone  for  Him.  Now,  were  this  supposition  as 
true  as  it  is  false — were  it  quite  possible  for  the  Christian  to 
withhold  from  Christ  a  portion  of  his  resources,  without 
rendering  by  such  an  act  the  least  advantage  to  the  foe,  it 
would  still  be  highly  inconsistent  and  unjust.  For,  at  the 
very  moment  we  are  relaxing  in  His  service,  ten  thousand  of 
His  agencies  are  at  work  for  us.  At  the  moment  we  are 
self-indulging,  we  are  doing  it  with  His  money,  in  His  time, 
at  His  expense.  But,  when  we  remember  that  every  particle 
of  influence  withheld  from  Christ  is  so  much  employed  against 
Him — that  neutrality  here  is  impossible — the  consequences 
are  alarming. 

Christians,  could  you  ascend  some  mount  of  vision,  whence 
you  could  look  down  upon  all  the  consequences  of  your 
conduct,  you  would  see  that,  at  the  moment  when  you  thought 
yourself  most  perfectly  detached  from  all  around  you,  there 
is  a  sense  in  which  you  were  then  standing  in  the  centre  of 
the  universe  with  lines  of  relation  and  influence  drawn  from 
yourselves  to  every  one  of  the  congregated  myriads ;  you 
would  see  that  often,  when  you  thought  your  character  most 
unobserved  and  at  rest,  it  was  giving  out  moral  influences 
without  intermission — that  the  moment  they  ceased  to  be 
good,  they  began  to  be  evil  —  that,  however  'apparently 
unimportant,  they  have  ever  since  been  swelling  that  tide  of 
evil  by  which  myriads  are  borne  on  to  perdition ;  you  would 
see  that  the  world  is  the  scene  of  a  moral  conflict — that  in 
that  conflict  you  hold  an  appointed  post — that  at  that  post 
everythmg  you  possess  is  a  weapon  of  war — that  never  have 
you  ceased  to  wield  them  either  for  evil  or  for  good;  for  the 
moment  in  which  you  thought  you  were  only  pausing,  a 
shout  of  joy  ran  through  the  ranks  of  the  invisible  foe,  who 
beheld  in  that  pause  a  proof  of  your  weakness,  and  the  sign 
and  means  of  their  own  strength — so  that  Avhen  you  thought 
you  were  only  doing  nothing  for  Christ,  they  hailed  you  as 
an  accession  to  their  o^vn  ranks,  acting  against  Him;  and 
thus  you  would  see  why  it  was  that  Meroz  was  cursed  because 


COMPLETION  OF  HIS  WORK.  249 

tliey  came  not  out  to  the  help  of  the  Lord,  and  why  it  is 
that,  in  the  final  judgment,  those  that  did  nothing  will  find 
themselves  standing  side  by  side  with  them  that  did  evil,  and 
involved  in  the  same  condemnation. 

Oh,  precious,  precious  influence,  each  grain  of  which 
exceeds  the  value  of  the  globe!  Well  might  our  Lord  be 
jealous  for  every  particle,  since  there  are  but  two  treasuries 
in  the  universe,  one  for  Him  and  the  other  for  Satan,  so 
that  every  grain  withheld  from  His  falls  into  and  enriches 
the  other.  And  well  may  the  Christian  regard  himself  with 
all  the  sacredness  of  a  temple,  since  he  cannot  yield  himself 
to  any  other  claimant  than  Christ,  even  for  a  moment,  without 
yielding  himself  during  that  moment  to  a  hostile  party;  so 
that,  in  truth,  his  only  escape  from  partial  hostility  to  Christ 
is  that  of  unreserved  devotedness  to  His  service. 

5.  But  speak  we  of  the  fact  that  Christ  has  thus  laid  all 
the  members  of  His  Church  under  solemn  obligation,  as  a 
proof  of  His  unabated  solicitude  for  human  salvation ;  from 
the  concluding  book  of  Scripture,  the  Book  of  the  Eevelation, 
there  is  reason  to  believe  that  he  has  engaged  the  agency  of 
every  angel  in  heaven  for  the  same  object.  Nay,  there  is 
reason  to  conclude  that  they  are  not  only  engaged,  but  that, 
from  the  moment  they  comprehended  the  great  design  of 
His  death,  they  themselves  have  felt  straitened  till  it  l)e 
accomplished — that  in  this  respect  they  perfectly  sympathize 
with  Christ — that  when  the  Gospel  was  first  proclaimed,  they 
felt  a  holy  impatience  to  see  it  taken  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth — possibly  they  expected,  that  wherever  it  was  taken  it 
would  triumph — that  such  a  message  of  mercy  could  not 
be  rejected.  There  is  reason  to  believe  that  they  have  never 
yet  witnessed  the  apathy  of  the  Church  in  diff"using  the 
Gospel  without  experiencing  a  feeling  which  answers  to 
profound  disappointment  and  regret — that  they  never  behold 
its  successful  propagation  without  hailing  the  event  as  an 
addition  to  their  own  happiness — that  they  never  hear  it 
proclaimed  to  a  people  without  waiting  and  watching  with 


250  Christ's  longing  foe  the 

holy  anxiety  to  see  tlie  result — and  that,  no  sooner  does  the 
first  sigh  escape  the  penitent  sinner,  and  the  first  tear  drop, 
than  joy  thrills  through  all  their  i^rincipalities  and  powers — 
and  that  one  reason  why  they  rejoice  in  his  conversion  is, 
that  they  behold  in  him  another  agent  for  carrying  on  the 
great  designs  of  the  Saviour's  death.  There  is  reason  to 
believe  that  so  deeply  do  they  sympathize  with  Christ  their 
Lord  in  His  undiminished  solicitude  for  human  salvation, 
that  not  only  is  each  angel  at  his  post  as  an  agent  of  Christ, 
and  each  vial  of  judgment  ready  to  be  discharged  on  the 
enemies  of  His  Gospel,  and  each  harp  tuned  for  the  celebra- 
tion of  its  final  triumj^h — but  that,  were  the  exchange 
permitted,  gladly  v/ould  they  resign,  for  a  while,  their 
heavenly  seats  to  us,  that  they  might  discharge  our  trust, 
wield  our  influence,  and  win  the  honours  which  are  offered 
to  us  in  drawing  men  to  Christ. 

6.  But  if  all  this  may  be  inferred  from  the  concluding  book 
of  Scri2:)ture,  what  may  we  learn  from  the  concluding  para- 
graph— the  postscript  of  the  Bible? — what  but  the  concern 
of  Christ  to  fill  the  entire  Church  in  heaven  and  earth  with 
His  own  solicitude  for  human  salvation — "  The  Spmt  and 
the  Bride  say.  Come.  And  let  him  that  heareth  say,  Come. 
And  let  him  that  is  athirst  come.  And  whosoever  will,  let 
him  take  the  water  of  life  freely.'' 

Here  is  the  summing-up  of  all  His  arrangements  and  com- 
mands for  the  diff'Lision  of  the  Gospel.  If  all  the  invitations 
of  mercy  could  be  condensed  and  uttered  in  a  single  word, 
that  word  would  be,  come.  Having  opened  the  fountain 
of  eternal  life  in  the  midst  of  the  desert  world,  the  Spirit — 
the  Church — every  member  of  that  Church — every  jiower  of 
every  member,  even  if  he  can  only  utter  the  exclamation 
"come" — are  all  to  be  combined  and  devoted  to  the  grand 
object  of  inviting  the  perishing  world  to  partake.  Every 
one  that  hears  the  call  is  to  transmit  it  further  still — there 
is  no  point  at  which  it  may  stop — a  chain  of  living  voices 
is  to  be  carried  round  the  globe  in  every  direction — till  the 


COMPLETION  OF  HIS  WORK.  251 

earth  grows  vocal  witli  the  sound  of  the  Church  invitmg  men 
to  Christ. 

7.  But  if  all  this  urgency  is  implied  in  the  last  look,  and 

expressed  in  the  last  paragraph  of  Scripture,  what  shall  we 

say  of  the  last  sentence  which  the  Saviour  uttered,  "  Behold, 

I  come  quickly"?      Does  it  not  imply  that  there  is  not  a 

moment  to   be  lost?      Is   it   not  meant   to   stimulate  the 

lingering  progress  of  the  Church  into  urgent  activity?    Does 

it  not  intimate  that  the  eye  of  Him  who  uttered  it  is  already 

fixed  intently  on  the  goal,  and  that  He  counts  each  moment 

lost  which  does  not  bring  us  nearer  to  it?     Yes;  as  if  we 

had  only  a  single  word  to  utter,  and  only  a  moment  in 

which   to   utter   it,  He  would  have  us   to   pour   into   the 

utterance  of  it   all   the   impassioned  earnestness  of  which 

we  are  capable — assuring  us  that  the  Spirit  himself  would 

pour  into  it  also  His  own  infinite  energy — that  a  Church 

so  devoted  would  carry  along  with  it  all  the  sympathies 

of  the  holy  universe. 

8.  "But  why  this  continued  solicitude  on  the  part  of 
Christ?''  it  may  be  asked.  "  Has  not  His  great  sacrifice  been 
not  only  oSered,  but  accepted?  and  is  He  not  now  exalted  in 
consequence  to  the  right  hand  of  God?"  Yes;  but  His 
concern  relates  now  to  the  proclamation  of  His  atoning 
sacrifice  throughout  the  world,  and  to  the  salvation  of  those 
who  rely  on  it.  Having  provided  the  means  of  salvation, 
He  is  now  for  pressing  on  to  the  end.  And  hence  He  prays 
even  in  heaven.  Though  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  He  ever 
liveth,  even  there,  to  make  intercession.  While  all  heaven  is 
occupied  in  the  celebration  of  His  praise,  He  is  occupied  in 
still  urging  on  the  great  object  for  which  He  died.  "  But  is 
He  not  invested  with  power,  and  seated  on  a  throne?''  Yes, 
^ays  the  apostle,  but  even  there  He  is  " henceforth  expecting' 
^•from  the  moment  He  ascended  it,  He  has  been  waiting 
j^Qr — expecting — looking  on  with  intense  desire  to  the  tim.e 
when  all  His  foes  shall  be  at  His  feet— aU  His  friends  at  His 
side— all  the  ends  of  His  death  fulfilled— and  the  only  use 


252  CHRIST'S  LONGING  FOR  THE 

wliicli  He  makes  of  His  power  nieanwliile  is  to  urge  and 
liasteu  on  tlie  grand  consummation. 

IV. 

Brethren,  what,  fourthly,  should  be  the  practical  applica- 
tion of  this  subject?     If  the  devotedness  of  Christ  to  the 
►salvation  of  man  was  such  that  He  not  only  agonized  on  the 
cross,  but  even  agonized  for  it,  and  if  His  Divine  solicitude 
be   still   undiminished — then,    surely,  the    Christian  cannot 
render   less    than    entire    devotedness    to   the   same    object. 
Accordingly,  the  Saviour  claims   every  Christian  here   for 
Himself     From  the  moment  He  saw  the  travail  of  His  soul 
accomplished  in  you,  your  duty  became  definite,  imperative, 
one.      If  every  other  member  of  the  human  family  were 
abandoned  to  live  without  control — if  the  sun  itself  were  left 
to  wander  at  random  through  infinite  space — ^your  course 
would  still  be  minutely  prescribed.     As  if  you  alone  held 
the  grx}at  secret  of  the  cross,  and  were  consequently  the  most 
important  being  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  your  every  moment 
is  charged  with  an  appointed  duty.     As  if  you  had  been 
''made  alive  from  the  dead;"  yes,  not  merely  as  if  you  had 
been  called  out  of  nothingness  into  existence,  not  merely  as 
if  you  had  been  selected  and  sent  down  from  the  ranks  of 
the  blessed  above,    but  with  stronger  motives   still — as  it 
your  guilty  soul  had  been  recalled  from  j^erdition,  v^liere  the 
undying  worm  had  found  you  and  where  the  unqueiicba1)le 
flame  had  enwrapped  you,    and   your   dissolved   body  had 
been  recalled  from  the  dnst  of  death — and  as  if  you  had 
"risen  together  with  Clirist,"  had  literally  come  out  of  the 
tomb   with    Christ,    and    had   received    life   and    salvation 
together  at  the  mouth  of  the  sepulchre  at  the  hand  of  Christ 
— all  your  new-found  powers  are  to  be  held  by  you  as  a 
precious  trust  for  the  service  of  Christ.     As  if  you  had  come 
forth  from  the  sepulchre  at  first  with  life  only — and  as  if 
your   reason,   affections,    knowledge,  speech,    property,    had 
then  bc3en  returned  to  you  separately  and  in  succession,  with 


COMPLETION  OF  HIS  WOEK.  253 

a  distinct  intimation  accompanying  each  that  you  received  it 
back  for  Christ — you  are  to  look  on  yourself  henceforth  as 
a  part  of  the  cross,  as  taken  up  into  the  great  designs  of 
Christ,  as  bound  for  life  and  death  in  His  plans  of  mercy. 
Your  character  is  to  be  a  reproduction  of  the  character  of 
Christ.  The  disinterestedness  which  appeared  in  Christ  is 
to  reappear  in  you.  The  tenderness  of  Christ — his  untold 
solicitude  for  human  souls — is  to  live  over  again  in  your 
tones  of  entreaty,  your  wrestling  prayers  for  their  salvation. 
The  blood  of  the- cross  itself  is,  in  a  sense,  to  stream  forth 
again  in  your  tears  of  anguish,  your  voluntary  and  vicarious 
self-sacrifice  to  draw  men  to  Christ.  And  if  tempted  to  lend 
but  a  particle  of  your  influence  to  any  other  claimant  than 
Christ,  your  reply  is  at  hand — "  I  am  not  my  o^vn" — I  am 
Christ's.  He  has  put  it  out  of  my  power  to  give  Him  more 
than  belongs  to  Him,  for  He  has  purchased  and  challenges 
the  whole  through  every  moment  of  time — and  out  of  my 
will  to  give  Him  less,  for  if  I  know  any  grief,  it  is  that  my 
all  should  so  inadequately  express  my  sense  of  obligation, 
and  so  feebly  promote  those  great  designs  on  the  accomphsh- 
ment  of  which  His  heart  is  so  intensely  set. 

2.  But  if  we  thus  sjmipathize  with  Christ,  we  shall  see 
the  importance  of  everything  calculated  to  j^i'oi^ote  the 
object  of  His  solicitude.  Viewed  in  connexion  with  these 
objects,  nothing  we  do  is  insignificant — an  act  apparently 
tri\ial,  a  word,  a  look,  acquires  a  character  of  infinite 
moment.  You  may  sometimes  have  wondered  at  the  import- 
ance attached  in  Scripture  to  things  of  apparently  small 
account.  A  cup  of  cold  water  given  to  a  disciple,  in  the 
name  of  a  disciple,  is  to  receive  the  plaudits  of  the  universe. 
A  poor  widow  casts  in  two  mites  into  the  temple  treasury: 
and  if  the  Saviour  had  not  graciously  noticed  it,  man  would 
have  accounted  it  the  merest  trifle.  But  His  noticing  the  act 
did  not  make  it  important.  He  noticed  it  because  it  was 
important.  It  would  have  been  quite  as  important  had  He 
never  so  noticed  it.     And  one  of  His  objects  in  noticing  it 


254  CHRIST'S  LONGING  FOR  THE 

was  to  teach  iis  this — to  assure  us  that  every  such  act, 
whether  noticed  or  not  on  earth,  is  both  noticed  and  recorded 
in  heaven — that  He  receives  it  as  a  tribute  of  affection  to 
Himself — accounts  Himself  enriched  by  it — and  the  cause 
for  which  He  died  intentionally  and  therefore  really  ^yo- 
moted."  One  of  His  messengers  goes  forth  to  preach  the 
Gospel,  and  obtains  an  audience;  "And  I  say  unto  you/' 
saith  Christ,  "  in  receiving  him,  they  have  received  me,  and 
in  receiving  me,  they  have  received  Him  that  sent  me/' 
See  what  a  train  of  subliine  consequences  the  sincere  recep- 
tion-of  the  Gospel  draws  after  it!  the  reception  of  Christ 
in  all  His  mediatorial  glory,  and  of  the  Father  in  all  His 
infinite  benignity  and  love ! — consequences,  therefore,  which 
ask  infinity  and  eternity  for  the  full  expansion  of  thek 
results. 

See,  too,  what  a  train  of  results  is  involved  in  an  event 
like  that  which  has  now  assembled  us  together !  Brethren, 
if  there  be  any  proportion  between  events  on  earth  and  the 
degree  of  emotion  which  they  excite  in  heaven,  the  dedica- 
tion of  a  house  to  the  great  purposes  of  the  Cross  must 
excite  a  sensation  of  delight  through  all  the  ranks  of  the 
blessed.  And  could  we  bear  to  think  that  it  did  not? 
Could  we  bear  to  think  that  we  were  here  unnoticed  by  all 
but  human  eyes — that  we  were  isolated,  cut  off  from  all  the 
sympathies  of  the  blessed — that  nothing  was  known  in 
iieaven  of  what  is  now  transacting  here?  And  can  they 
know  it  without  S3rmpathizing  with  it  ?  No ;  as  it  har- 
monizes with  the  great  object  of  the  Saviour's  solicitude,  it 
attracts  their  regards,  and  secures  their  intense  desires  for 
success.  "When  the  Jewish  temple  was  on  the  eve  of 
destruction,  it  is  said  that  mysterious  voices  were  heard  to 
say,  "Let  us  go  hence,  let  us  go  hence;''  and  that  ominous 
sounds  of  dejoarture  were  heard.  But  when  a  house  of  God 
is  first  opened,  and  devoted  to  the  ministry  of  the  Gospel, 
are  there  not  sounds  which  reach  the  ear  of  faith,  and  say, 
"Let  us  enter,  let  us  enter  and  take  possession"?     And 


COaiPLETION  OF  HIS  WOEK.  255 

l~»atriarclis  enter,  followed  by  a  long  snccession  of  proi:)liets, 
apostles,  and  martyrs,  and  righteous  men — tliey  enter  to 
testify  afresh,  through  the  ministry  oi  the  Gospel,  of  the 
sufferings  of  Christ,  and  the  glory  that  should  follow.  But 
above  them  all  a  voice  is  heard  announcing,  "  In  receiving 
my  Gospel  ye  have  received  me,  and  still  more,  ye  have 
received  Him  that  sent  me/'  "  Yes,''  saith  God,  "  this  is  my 
rest  for  ever;  here  will  I  dwell,  for  I  have  desired  it."  And 
having  entered,  His  train  filleth  the  temple.  Brethren,  com- 
pared with  the  occasion  which  has  now  brought  us  together, 
how  insignificant,  as  viewed  from  heaven,  is  the  march  of  an 
army  or  the  revolution  of  an  empire  !  For  while  that  is 
purely  a  human  affair,  except  as  far  as  God  chooses  to  turn 
it  to  account  and  to  press  it  into  His  service,  this  involves 
everything  dear  to  the  heart  of  God — purposes  which  from 
eternity  have  been  revolved  in  His  mind — the  salvation  of 
souls  over  which  He  is  yearning — the  accomplishment  of 
objects  to  which  every  perfection  of  His  nature  is  pledged, 
and  concerning  which  the  Saviour  is  straitened  till  they  are 
fulfilled. 

3.  But  this  reminds  us,  next,  that  if  we  truly  sympathize 
with  Christ,  we  shall  not  be  satisfied  with  merely  providing 
the  means  of  usefulness,  or  with  putting  them  into  action — 
we  shall  be  deeply  anxious  to  see  the  end  of  all  such  means 
accomplished.  The  Saviour  was  not  only  straitened  till  He 
had  reached  the  cross — till  He  had  provided  salvation;  all 
the  solicitude  which  He  then  felt  for  the  means,  He  now 
feels  for  the  end.  And  is  not  this  the  great  difference 
between  His  merely  nominal  and  His  devoted  servants — that 
while  the  former  are  content  with  languidly  using  the  out- 
ward means,  the  latter  are  in  solicitude  to  realize  the  end? 
In  the  one  case,  the  parent,  for  instance,  takes  his  child  to 
the  house  of  God,  but  never  yearns  for  its  conversion;  the 
Sunday-school  teacher  instructs  his  pupils  in  the  Bible,  but 
never  prays  that  it  may  be  made  the  power  of  God  to  their 
salvation,  the  minister  or  missionary  preaches  the  Gospel, 


256  CHRIST'S  LONGING  FOE  THE 

but  does  not  long  for  the  sonls  of  liis  hearers.  But  in  the 
other  case,  the  parent,  the  teacher,  the  minister,  and  the 
missionary  symj)athize  with  Christ;  and  hence  they  "beseech 
niQii" — they  beseech  God — they  travail  in  birth  again  till 
Christ  be  formed  in  those  whose  welfare  they  seek. 

4.  But  this  subject  reminds  us,  brethren,  finally,  that  if 
we  truly  sympathize  with  Christ,  we  shall  be  conscious  of 
deep  humiliation  at  our  past  apathy,  and  of  holy  impatience 
and  concern  to  see  the  designs  of  His  death  realized  in  the 
salvation  of  our  fellow-men.  For,  alas,  those  ends,  as  far  as 
they  have  depended  on  human  instrumentality,  are  still 
unrealized.  The  scenes  of  misery  which  moved  and  melted 
His  heart  still  exist — the  guilt  which  He  came  to  expiate-  - 
the  ignorance  of  God,  and  the  dishonour  cast  upon  His  name, 
which  He  came  to  remedy — the  salvation  of  the  world — 
every  object  which  lay  beijond  the  cross,  and  which  induced 
Him  to  urge  on  His  progress  to  the  cross,  still  remains 
appealing  to  His  compassion,  and  filling  Him  with  concern. 
And  w]iy  ?  Oh,  Church  unworthy  of  such  a  Saviour !  Having 
put  all  the  properties  and  powers  of  His  own  nature  into 
requisition  for  the  redemption  of  man,  He  looked  to  His 
people  to  put  all  their  resources  into  requisition  for  making 
that  redemption  known ;  but  the  only  strait,  comparatively 
speaking,  Vv^hich  they  have  felt  has  been  how  to  escape  the 
duty,  or  entirely  to  evade  the  obligation.  And  still  the 
guilt  and  wretchedness  of  the  world  lie  before  Him,  and  fill 
Him  with  concern.  But  who  feels  v/ith  Him  ?  who  sees  with 
His  eyes?  who  is  agonized  at  the  sight?  No;  if  He  looks 
at  the  world,  and  is  affected  with  the  spectacle  of  its  misery, 
is  His  concern  likely  to  be  allayed  by  directing  His  eye  to 
the  Church  ?  is  not  a  large  portion  of  it,  at  least,  in  a  state 
in  which  it  is  difficult  to  say  whether  the  Church  or  the 
world  is  most  calculated  to  excite  his  concern?  Oh,  Church 
unworthy  of  such  a  Saviour !  And  was  it  for  this  that  He 
bore  down,  by  a  course  of  unexampled  devotedness,  the 
greatest    obstacles   in   the  universe — made  His  way  from 


COMPLETION  OF  HIS  WOEK.  257 

heaven,  througli  the  ranks  of  hell,  into  the  midst  of  the 
world,  and  direct  to  a  cross?  was  it  for  this  He  effected  an 
unbroken  descent  from  heights  of  glory  no  wing  can  scale, 
to  de23ths  of  humiliation  no  line  can  fathom?  and  was  it  for 
this  He  even  agonized  to  reach  it?  Brethren,  we  cannot 
truly  sympathize  with  Christ,  without  feeling  the  deepest 
humiliation  at  our  past  apathy,  and  cherishing  a  holy  impa- 
tience and  concern  to  see  the  design  of  His  death  realized  in 
the  recovery  of  men  to  God. 

And  ask  we  for  motives  to  this?  Is  it  nothing  that 
Christ  expects  it?  Is  it  nothing  that  He  has  turned  His 
whole  self  into  a  sacrifice,  compared  with  which  nothing  else 
deserves  the  name  ?  and  that  He  has  devolved  it  on  us  to 
multiply  as  far  as  we  can  the  copies  of  His  character  in  our 
own?  But  how  can  a  supine,  self-indulging  Christianity 
represent  a  self-denying,  self-sacrificing  Christ?  How  can 
the  world  learn  His  benevolence  from  our  selfishness  ?  How 
can  it  know  that  He  was  in  anguish  for  its  redemption  unless 
we  are  seen  in  anguish  for  its  conversion? 

Is  it  nothing,  again,  that  others  have  felt  this?  Yes; 
the  duty  is  not  only  obligatory  but  practicable,  for  others 
have  felt  it.  They  looked  through  their  tears  from  the 
world  to  the  cross,  and  from  the  cross  to  the  world  again, 
till  they  "thus  judged,  that  if  one  died  for  all,  then  were  all 
dead;  and  that  He  died  for  all,  that  they  who  live  should  not 
henceforth  live  unto  themselves,  but  unto  Him  that  died  for 
them,  and  rose  again  ''—they  judged  that,  instead  of  living 
as  if  they  were  under  little  or  no  obligation  to  Him,  they 
should  henceforth  act  as  if  the  duty  of  living  to  Him  were 
the  only  obligation  they  were  under — and  that  the  best  way 
of  doing  that  would  be  by  conveying  the  knowledge  of  His 
redemption  to  others,  and  thus  working  out  the  grand  pur- 
poses of  His  atoning  death.  The  love  of  Christ  constrained 
them,  bore  them  onwards,  made  them  feel  straitened  to  see 
those  purposes  accomplished.  And  what  was  there  in  all 
this  which  is  not  obligatory  on  us  of  the  j^)resent  day?  what 

E 


258  CHRIST'S  LONGING  FOR  THE 

had  the  Saviour  clone  for  them,  which  He  lias  not  equalled 
and  even  exceeded  for  us? 

And  should  it  not  urge  our  languid  movements  into  zeal- 
ous activity  when  we  reflect  that  "the  time  is  short''?  Was 
there  an  hour  appointed  for  the  sacrifice  of  Christ,  and  did 
He,  as  He  approached  it,  burn  for  its  arrival?  Yes;  so  much 
was  depending  on  that  short  hour,  that  he  was  filled  with 
anguish  till  it  had  passed.  And  is  it  true  that  a  day  is 
appointed,  beyond  which  there  shall  not  be  another  moment 
through  all  eternity  for  extending  His  further  saving  grace  ? 
Yes;  and  it  may  be  that  we  have  reached  the  evening  of  tlmt 
day — that  we  have  entered  on  its  closing  hours.  Can  we  think, 
then,  how  much  remains  to  be  yet  accomplished — what  con- 
tinents of  darkness  to  be  lighted  up — ^what  moral  revolutions 
to  be  effected — and  can  we  be  content  to  do  less  than  th-j 
utmost  in  our  power  to  eff"ect  them?  can  we  feel  less  than 
straitened  till  the  grand  consummation  is  achieved  ? 

5.  And  achieved  it  shall  be.  How  should  the  prospect 
quicken  our  activity  and  inflame  our  desire!  To  think  tlir.t 
the  scene  of  the  Saviour's  humiliation  shall  be  the  scene  of 
His  ultimate  triumph — that  that  triumph  will  be  such,  that 
even  He  will  deem  it  an  ample  compensation  for  all  His 
sufferino:s  and  straits — to  think  of  His  leadino^  a  recovered 
and  sanctified  world  into  the  presence  of  the  Father,  as  the 
fruit  of  His  mediation — and  of  His  there  unveiling  to  the 
eyes  of  that  adoring  multitude  the  vindicated,  illustrated, 
unapproachable  glory  of  God!  If  the  recovery  of  a  single 
sinner  throws  all  heaven  into  ecstasy,  what  will  be  the  trans- 
ports of  that  final  scene  in  which  shall  be  celebrated  the 
recovery  of  a  world  ?  If  the  homage  of  heaven  brings  Him 
honour,  what  will  the  salvation  of  earth  do  ?  There  His 
glory  has  never  been  obscured ;  here  it  has  suffered  a  long 
and  disastrous  eclipse.  When,  therefore,  it  shall  again  burst 
forth  with  unclouded  lustre,  well  may  the  blessed,  with 
unwonted  emj)hasis,  exclaim,  "  Even  earth,  the  whole  earth 
is  fuU  of  His  glory ! "     When,  in  defiance  of  all  the  hostility 


COMPLETION  OF  HIS  WOEK.  259 

of  hell,  and  all  the  mighty  depravity  of  man,  the  empire  of 
grace  shall  be  everywhere  trinnij)hant,  what  honours  will  be 
recovered  to  the  blessed  God  of  which  He  has  long  been 
defrauded !  When  all  things  shall  be  sacred  to  His  name — 
all  hearts  reflecting  His  image — how  will  the  earth  echo  it 
to  heaven,  and  heaven  re-echo  it  back  again — that  even  here, 
at  length,  "  the  Lord  God  Omnipotent  reigneth '' — that  even 
"  the  Idngdoms  of  tJiis  world  have  become  the  kingdoms  of 
our  Lord  and  of  his  Christ ! '"  And  when  it  shall  be  seen 
distinctly  that,  from  first  to  last,  the  recovery  of  the  v/orld 
was  entirely  owing,  through  every  stage  and  every  step,  to 
His  boundless  grace,  what  ascriptions  of  honour  will  the 
admiring  universe  pour  forth,  like  the  sound  of  many  waters, 
to  God  and  to  the  Lamb ! 

Now,  that  is  the  scene  on  which  the  eye  of  Christ  is  fixed 
— that  is  the  goal  at  which  he  is  aiming.  And  can  we  know 
that  he  has  constituted  His  Chm-ch  expressly  to  promote  it, 
and  that  He  is  looking  to  every  member  of  that  Church, 
to  every  Christian  present,  to  hasten  its  arrival,  without 
feeling  ourselves  straitened  till  it  be  accomplished  ?  Oh, 
talk  not  of  other  claims  and  other  causes.  Here  is  a  cause 
on  which  all  the  treasures  of  eternity  have  been  expended; 
all  creation  is  groaning  and  travailing  in  j^ain  together  for 
want  of  it;  even  now,  all  the  agencies  of  Providence  are 
urged  into  unusual  activity  to  hasten  it  on,  and  all  the  voices 
in  heaven  and  earth  are  calling  upon  you  to  take  part  in  it. 
Affected  by  its  magnitude  and  importance — moved  by  the 
example  of  Him  whose  cause  it  is — subdued  by  His  love — 
spnpathizing  with  Him  in  the  travail  of  His  soul  for  its  com- 
pletion, you  will  feel  that  to  throw  less  than  all  your  energy 
into  it  would  be  an  insult  to  all  the  momentous  interests 
which  it  involves.  Not  only,  therefore,  will  you  task  yom- 
own  powers  in  its  behalf — you  will  task  them  partly  in  an 
earnest  endeavour  to  move  heaven  and  earth  to  join  you. 


260  CHEIST  WEEPING  OVER  JERUSALEM. 


SEEMON  XI. 

CHRIST  WEEPING  OVER  JERUSALESL 

Luke  xix.  41,  42— "And  when  he  was  come  near,  he  beheld  the  city,  and 
wept  over  it,  saying.  If  thou  hadst  known,  even  thou,  at  least  in  this 
thy  day,  the  things  which  belong  unto  thy  peace  !  but  now  they  are  hid 
from  thine  eyes." 

Often  had  He  approaclied  Jerusalem  before  by  the  same 
road,  and  gazed  on  it  from  the  same  spot,  and  never,  we  may 
suppose,  had  He  looked  on  it  but  with  emotions  of  unutterable 
concern:  for,  oh!  Jerusalem  was  endeared  to  Him  by  ties 
unimagined  by  man.     Now,  however.  He  was  approaching  it 
for  the  last  time;  and  He  paused  to  take  a  final  look.     He 
knew  that  His  entrance  within  its  gates  would  be  the  signal 
for  filling  up  the  measure  of  its  guilt;  and,  therefore,  He 
lingered  a  moment  as  if  to  respite  its  doom — the  Sun  of 
Pdghteousness  lingered  a  moment  on  Mount  Olivet,  as  if  to 
prolong  for  it  that  day  of  grace  made  by  His  own  immediate 
beams.     He  had  before  asked  for  it  "  another  year,''  that  He 
might  make  on  it  fresh  experiments  of  mercy ;  and  now  He 
graciously  vouchsafed  to  it  another  moment.     And  as  He 
stood  and  gazed  on  it.  His  mind  filled  with  afi'ecting  recollec- 
tions of  the  ixtst,  the  future  rose  to  His  proj^hetic  eye,  crowded 
with  scenes  of  guilt  and  woe;  while  both  the  past  and  the 
future  were  aggravated  by  the  afflicting  thought  that  all  His 
generous  efforts  to  save  it  were  defeated,  and  w^ould  only 
serve  to  enhance  its  doom. 

1.  His  comprehensive  mind   reverted   to  the  pasi;    He 
remembered  the  days  of  old,  when  Israel  was  holiness  to  the 


CHEIST  WEEPING  OVEE  JERUSALEM.  261 

Lord.  He  could  not  forget  that  Judea  liad  for  ages  been  the 
ark  of  religion,  where  the  knowledge  of  Jehovah  had  been 
preserved  and  cherished,  when  lost  by  all  the  world  besides — 
that  it  was  filled  v/ith  the  mementoes  of  j^rojohets  and  miracles 
— that  it  had  been  the  birthjDlace  of  men  of  whom  the  world 
was  not  worthy — that  its  joaths  had  been  trodden  by  angels' 
feet — that  its  dust  was  hallowed,  its  very  soil  sacred  to  God. 
He  thought  of  the  temple,  where  devotion  had  for  so  many 
ages  felt  itself  nearer  heaven — where  the  bleeding  sacrifice 
had  daily  testified  of  human  guilt  and  of  Divine  placability — 
where  successive  generations  had  communed  with  God  from 
off  the  mercy-seat,  and  multitudes  had  found  the  gate  of 
heaven.  But  these  recollections,  pleasing  in  themselves,  were 
embittered  by  the  remembrance  of  the  guilt  they  necessarily 
recalled — ages  of  accumulated  guilt.  It  could  not  be  that  a 
prophet  should  perish  out  of  Jerusalem.  It  was  saturated 
with  "  the  blood  of  all  the  prophets,  down  to  the  blood  of 
Zacharias,  son  of  Barachias,  whom  they  slew  between  the 
temple  and  the  altar."  And  now  He  knew  that  it  was 
thirsting  for  His  own  blood.  Tor  more  than  a  thousand 
years,  it  had  enjoyed  the  peculiar  regards  of  heaven;  yet,  with 
all  His  compassion  for  it  in  Hvely  exercise,  the  benevolent 
Jesus  could  not  but  see  that  it  was  the  grave  of  hope,  the 
sejxilchre  of  all  piety. 

For  three  years  now,  He  himself  had  come,  seeking  fruit 
and  finding  none.  During  that  period.  His  preaching  and 
miracles  had  but  this  one  object — the  instruction  and  salva- 
tion of  its  thankless  and  disobedient  peojole.  How  solemnly 
had  He  warned  them,  how  graciously  invited  them,  how 
anxiously  laboured  to  convince  them  that  He  was  the  hope 
of  Israel,  the  promised  Messiah !  Eor  them  He  had  toiled, 
and  travelled,  and  interceded,  and  spent  Himself  in  self-con- 
suming privations.  For  their  sakes  He  had  made  himself  of 
no  reputation,  and  had  taken  on  Him  the  form  of  a  servant. 
When  driven  from  Jerusalem  by  persecution,  exiled  by  bitter 
hate,  He  carried  their  welfare  with  Him  in  His  heart;  and 


262  CHEIST  WEEPING  OVEE  JERUSALEM. 

soon  He  returned  to  tliem  again  witli  a  kindness  wliicli 
seemed  increased  by  their  ingratitude.  They  formed  the 
chief  object  of  His  tenderest  solicitude,  the  essence  of  His 
daily  thought.  Tor  them  every  pulse  of  His  heart  had 
beaten ;  and  for  them  that  heart  was  ready  to  pour  forth  its 
vital  blood.  He  had  done  everything  that  could  be  done  for 
their  welfare  consistently  with  His  own  perfections,  and  with 
the  liberty  of  accountable  creatures — everything,  but  in  vain. 
On  them  the  object  of  His  mission  seemed  entirely  lost.  He 
knew  that  at  that  moment  they  were  j)assing  His  destruction 
into  a  law.  He  looked  down  on  the  guilty  city,  and,  behold, 
it  resembled  a  vast  caldron  filled  and  fermenting  with  all 
infernal  passions,  of  which  He  was  to  be  the  devoted  victim. 

2.  But  with  the  self-denying  love  of  a  patriot  and  the 
grace  of  a  Saviour,  He  looked  beyond  the  spectacle  of  His 
oivn  sufferings,  and  fixed  His  eye  ujDon  theirs — He  could 
look  at  them  only  through  an  atmosphere  of  compassion. 
And,  oh,  what  an  appeal  to  His  pity  was  there  !  He  pene- 
trated the  future,  and  beheld  it  all.  Clouds  of  wrath  were 
gathering  over  Jerusalem  from  every  quarter  of  heaven, 
fraught  with  materials  of  destruction  such  as  none  but  a 
Divine  hand  could  collect ;  His  own  blood,  by  which  He  had 
gTaciously  meant  to  wash  their  guilt  away,  calling,  with  a 
voice  not  to  be  denied,  for  the  ministers  of  justice  to  arm ; 
all  things,  on  earth  and  in  heaven,  musterino:  and  marshall- 
ing  for  their  doom.  He  looked  again — and,  lo,  the  city,  His 
city,  was  beleaguered  and  lost — Jerusalem  lay  bleeding  at  His 
feet — the  harpy  nations  had  taken  their  prey — her  dwellings 
of  holiness  were  laid  waste — and  the  sound  of  her  expiring 
lament,  drowning  even  the  voice  of  justice  itself,  pierced  His 
heart,  and  drew  from  Him  words  in  which  all  His  soul  came 
forth — "  If  thou  hadst  known,  even  thou,  at  least  in  this  thy 
day,  the  things  which  belong  unto  thy  peace !  but  now  they 
are  hid  from  thine  eyes.'^ 

8.  The  exclamation,  reorarded  as  a  sentence,  is  broken  and 
incomplete;  but  who  does  not  see  that  it  is,  in  effect,  elo- 


CHEIST  WEEPING  OVEE  JERUSALEM.  263 

quently  completed  by  the  tears  wliich  break  it — tears  which 
are  the  natural  language  of  com2:)assion,  and  wliich  express 
its  intenseness  beyond  all  words  ?  But  He  not  only  thought 
of  the  2:fast,  and  surveyed  the  future — He  evidently  glanced 
also  at  a  pleasing  picture  of  what  the  present  might  have 
been ;  and  then  the  hrealv  in  the  sentence  is  to  be  regarded 
as  filled  up  with  a  silent  reflection  on  wTiat  w^oidd  have  been 
the  happy  results  had  Jerusalem  accepted  His  mission.  "  If 
thou  hadst  known !  oh,  if  thou  hadst  1  then  happy,  happy — 
but,  alas,  it  is  only  an  unsubstantial  vision.''  His  lino-erino- 
contemplation  of  the  same  blessed  possibility  is  apparenWso 
in  His  subsequent  exclamation,  "0  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem, 
thou  that  killest  the  pro23hets,  and  stonest  them  which  are  sent 
unto  thee,  how  often  would  I  have  gathered  thy  children 
together,  as  a  hen  gathereth  her  chickens  under  her  v/ings, 
and  ye  would  notT'  Had  the  nation  appreciated  His  charac- 
ter, had  it  sympathized  with  His  mission,  how  diflPerent,  we 
may  suppose,  His  conduct  would  have  been,  and  how  changed 
the  history  of  His  earthly  life.  The  Jewish  economy  might 
have  died  a  glorious  death,  full  of  days,  and  full  of  honours. 
Instead  of  entering  the  temple  to  denounce  and  to  scourge, 
He  might  have  gone  to  explain  and  apply  to  Himself  its 
ancient  rites;  to  make  knowai  the  termination  of  its  service; 
and  to  pronounce  its  funeral  eulogium  in  the  hearing  of  the 
great  congregation.  Instead  of  being  hated,  persecuted,  and 
ignominiously  put  to  death,  as  the  victim  of  malice — He 
might  have  assembled  the  tribes  by  proclamation — have 
lifted  up  His  voice,  and  explained  to  their  breathless  atten- 
tion the  doctrine  of  the  atonement — have  opened  their  under- 
standing, and  disclosed  the  amazing  fact,  that  the  principle  of 
vicarious  suffering,  which  ran  through  the  whole  of  their 
economy,  was  now  to  terminate  and  triumph  in  His  own 
piacular  death  for  man: — and  then,  amidst  the  tears  and 
sympathies  of  the  world.  He  might  have  ascended  Calvary, 
He  might  have  ascended  the  altar  of  sacrifice  itself— and  there, 
as  our  Substitute,  He  might  have  been  visibly  smitten  by  the 


264i  CHEIST  WEEPING  OVER  JERUSALEM. 

immediate  sword  of  justice  ;  while  angels,  bending  over  the 
mysterious  scene,  would  have  pointed  each  other  to  His  blood, 
and  said,  "  Behold,  how  he  loved  them '/'  Instead  of  retiring 
into  Galilee  when  He  arose  from  the  dead.  He  might  have  shewn 
Himself  openly  to  all  the  people ;  He  might  once  more  have 
entered  the  temj^le,  where  "  Moses  and  Elias,"  as  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  Jewish  Church  might  have  publicly  resigned 
into  His  hands  the  trust  which  that  Church  had  held  for  the 
human  race;  and  then,  investing  Him  with  the  insignia  of 
prophet,  priest,  and  king,  might  have  hailed  Him  as  the  hope 
of  Israel,  and  the  surety  of  the  world !  "0  that  his  people  had 
hearkened  unto  him,  and  Israel  had  walked  in  his  ways  1" 

It  is  true,  the  contrary  was  foreseen ;  every  step  He  took 
was  calculated  and  arranged  on  the  distinct  foresight  of  His 
rejection ;  the  wickedness  of  His  enemies  was  not  only  fore- 
seen, it  was  made  use  of — it  was  interwoven  into  the  texture 
of  the  Divine  plans  concerning  Him,  But  His  rejection  was 
necessitated  only  by  their  own  depravity.  Had  their  blinding 
unbelief  permitted  them  to  "  know  hii^j,  they  could  not  have 
crucified  the  Lord  of  glory/'  The  morn  of  mercy  would  have 
arisen  cloudless  on  the  world.  He  would  have  made  the 
temple  the  cradle  of  Christianity — the  rendezvous  of  piety  to 
aU  nations — the  sanctuary  of  the  world.  Jerasalem  should 
have  arisen  as  a  stately  palm,  towering  to  heaven,  and  seen 
to  the  ends  of  the  earth — distilling  balm  for  the  healing  of 
the  nations,  and  wafting  its  fragrance  as  incense  through 
the  skies.  Eeligion  should  have  built  her  palaces  in  its 
shadow — it  should  have  been  the  joy  of  the  whole  earth. 

How  often  would  He  have  done  this,  and  more  than  this, 
for  His  beloved  Jerusalem  ;  gathering  her  children  under  His 
fostering  care,  and  making  her  the  abode  of  heavenly  glory ! 
But,  alas  !  this  was  only  a  vision — as  the  name  Jerusalem 
imports — a  vision  of  peace;  and  now  that  vision  was  hid 
from  her  eyes,  and  had  vanished  from  His.  He  would  have 
turned  the  vision  into  reality — but  she  would  not — she  thrust 
Him  from  her.     Painful  indeed  is  the  situation  of  the  jxatriot 


CHEIST  WEEPING  OVER  JEEUSALEM.  265 

who  is  condemned  to  watcli  the  exhansted  struggles  of  his 
country — to  behold  its  liberties  and  powers  one  by  one 
exj^ire,  till  it  lies  prostrate  in  corruption,  and  trodden  under 
foot  of  the  nations.  But  here  was  more  than  a  patriot  called 
to  mourn  over  the  desolation  of  his  land,  and  to  witness  the 
frustration  of  his  plans  for  saving  it:  here  was  the  Friend  of 
sinners,  the  Lover  of  human  souls,  called  to  contemplate  the 
spiritual  perdition  of  a  whole  land,  and  that  land  the  imme- 
diate scene  of  His  godlike  labours.  He  could  not  fail  to  be 
deeply  affected  by  the  prospect  of  its  temporal  sufferings  ; 
but  what  were  they  compared  with  its  impending  spiritual 
fate  !  He  knew  the  whole  history  of  sin — He  had  seen  it  in 
its  awful  origin,  expelling  the  angels  from  heaven,  and  pre- 
paring for  them  a  hell — His  comprehensive  mind  had  all  the 
endless  consequences  of  sin  present  to  His  view.  And  know- 
ing as  He  did  the  awful  results  of  the  least  sin,  what  must 
His  emotions  of  grief  and  compassion  have  been,  at  the  sight 
of  a  whole  nation  of  human  beings,  for  whose  welfare,  at  any 
moment,  he  was  ready  to  become  a  curse,  destroyed  by  the 
vials  of  Almighty  displeasure — perishing  under  a  charge  of 
guilt,  only  inferior  in  aggravation  to  the  guilt  of  the  angels 
who  kept  not  their  first  estate !  Hi; ;  benevolent  nature  re- 
coiled at  the  idea  ; — He  felt  as  if  He  could  not  give  them  up — 
could  not  see  them  consigned  to  such  irretrievable  ruin ;  as 
if,  even  now,  it  was  not  too  late  to  save  them ;  as  if  He  could 
almost  have  saved  them  even  against  their  wills.  We  might 
have  supposed  that  a  consideration  of  their  continued  aggra- 
vated guilt  had  drained  all  pity  from  His  nature  ;  but  at  the 
sight  of  that  coming  woe,  a  new  fountain  of  compassion  opens 
in  His  heart,  and  j^ours  itself  forth  in  an  unexampled  gush 
of  sympathy ;  at  the  prospect  of  that  dreadful  scene — that 
type  of  the  terrors  of  the  judgment  day — His  whole  nature 
dissolves  into  compassion ;  the  surrounding  multitude  are 
shouting  hosanna,  and  hailing  His  entrance  into  the  devoted 
city — but  He  heeds  it  not :  His  o^vn  cross  is  preparing — but 
He  thinks  not  of  it — He  abandons  Himself  to  sympathy — He 


266  CHRIST  WEEPING  OVER  JERUSALEM. 

can  only  ntter  an  exclamation  in  wliicli  He  pours  forth  the 
tears  of  His  heart,  "  0  Jerusalem,  oh,  that  thou  hadst  known, 
even  thou,  at  least  in  this  thy  day,  the  things  that  belong  unto 
thy  jDcace  ! — but  now  they  are  hid  from  thine  eyes/" 

Pitiable,  indeed,  must  be  the  state  of  that  mind  which  can 
find  itself  at  ease  to  debate  a  question  of  metaphysical  divinity 
in  the  presence  of  the  Eedeemer's  teaTs.  Yet  there  are  men 
whose  creed  has  no  place  even  for  His  sacred  grief ;  who  are 
actually  annoyed  at  these  tears  wej^t  over  perishing  sinners, 
regarding  them  as  at  heterodox  variance  with  the  Divine 
decrees  ;  who  frown  at  this  precious  distilment  of  infinite 
love  as  inconsistent  with  their  views  of  Divine  inflexibility. 
There  are  those  who  would  rather  these  tears  had  never  been 
shed,  or  that  the  record  of  this  burst  of  Divine  compassion 
should  be  expunged  from  the  sacred  page,  than  that  it  should 
remain  there  as  an  obstacle  to  their  logical  views  of  the  Divine 
purposes.  But  we  linger  over  it  with  delight — we  love  to 
remain  within  the  softenino;  influence,  the  hallowed  contao^ion, 
of  the  Eedeemer's  tears — we  bless  Him  for  them — ^we  regcird 
tlie  melting  scene  as  only  inferior  in  pathos,  in  tender  and 
solemn  grandeur,  to  Calvary  itself 

The  compassionate  exclamation  of  Jesus,  on  this  occasion, 
intimates  that  the  salvation  of  the  Jews  would  have  been 
far  more  agreeable  to  His  benevolent  nature  than  their 
destruction — that,  notwithstanding  this,  there  were  sufficient 
reasons  why  His  omnipotence  should  not  interpose  to  prevent 
that  destruction — that,  in  one  and  the  same  act,  justice,  awful 
and  unbending  justice,  may  denounce  destruction  against  the 
sinner,  while  benevolence  sympathizes  in  his  misery,  even  to 
tears.  When  Jesus  afterwards  turned  to  the  mourning 
daughters  of  Jerusalem,  as  they  followed  Him  to  Calvary, 
and  said,  "  Weep  not  for  me,  but  weep  for  yourselves  and 
your  children,"'  He  sought  by  that  admonition  to  impress 
them  with  the  magnitude  of  the  calamity  which  awaited 
them — a  calamity  so  great  as  to  require  their  undivided  grief 
— a  calamity  so  pregnant  with  woe,  that  had  all  the  tears 


CHRIST  WEEPING  OVER  JERUSALEM.  267 

shed  from  the  creation  been  reserved  for  that  event,  had  all 
the  universe  joined  and  aided  them  in  the  mighty  grief,  it 
would  not  have  equalled  the  gxeatness  of  the  occasion.  But 
His  own  tears  should  affect  us  more  deeply  with  the  great- 
ness of  the  calamity  than  the  sight  of  all  creation  in  tcarh 
To  think  that  Jesus  wept — that  tears  fell  from  His  eyes,  the 
eyes  of  incarnate  perfection — how  great  must  have  been  the 
calamity  which  occasioned  them — the  calamity  of  souls  lost 
— immortal  natures  perishing  under  the  frown  of  God  I  And 
He  would  encourage  us  to  infer  that  His  nature  is  still  the 
same — that,  making  the  necessary  allowance  for  the  difference 
between  His  earthly  and  His  heavenly  state.  His  nature  is 
still  the  same — that  no  sinner  perishes  unpitied,  unlamented. 
He  would  have  the  ministers  of  His  Gospel  to  mingle  their 
appeals  and  warnings  with  tears — and  to  assure  the  impeni- 
tent that  if  they  finally  perish,  they  descend  into  perdition 
bathed  in  the  tears  of  His  Divine  compassion. 

11. 

From  this  amplification  and  general  interpretation  of  the 
text,  let  us  proceed,  next,  to  consider  its  particular  bearmg 
on  ourselves.  Let  us  not  suppose  that  it  relates  exclusively 
to  the  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem,  who  were  its  immediate 
objects.  As  an  event,  the  exclamation  of  Christ,  and  the 
tears  mingled  with  it,  related  to  the  inhabitants  of  that  guilty 
city;  as  a  record,  it  is  meant  for  us.  By  giving  to  it  a  place 
in  the  evangelical  narrative,  the  Son  of  God  is  saying,  in 
effect,  to  tiie  preachers  of  His  Gospel,  "Perpetuate  the 
memory  of  that  scene — repeat  it  in  the  hearing  of  your 
fellow-men — tell  them  that  when  My  ancient  people  despised 
and  rejected  Me,  they  yet  had  My  tears— tell  them  that  after 
all  the  wi'ongs  I  had  received,  when  I  came  near,  and  beheld 
the  city,  I  wept  over  it,  and  said,  'Oh!  that  thou  hadst 
known,  even  thou,  at  least  in  this  thy  day,  the  things  which 
belong  unto  thy  peace!  but  now  they  are  hid  from  thine 
eyes'— tell  them  this— it  v/ill  give  pathos  and  power  to  your 


268  CHEIST  WEEPING  OVER  JERUSALEM, 

calls  to  repentance  in  My  name — it  will  give  liope  to  tlie 
penitent,  by  affording  him  an  insight  into  the  compassion  of 
]\Iy  heart — and  many,  many  will  bless  the  hour  when  first 
they  heard  that  I  wept  over  Jerusalem/' 

And  think,   my  friends,  there  is  a  sense  in  which  the 
history  of  Christ  among  the  Jews  may  be  regarded  as  a 
typic  or  prophetic  representation  of  the  reception  His  Gospel 
would  meet  with  in  every  land  and  every  place  it  might 
visit.     Human  nature  still  numbers  among  its  members  its 
Scribes  and  its  Pharisees,  though  imder  different  names ;  still 
retains  its  proud  and  persecuting  bigots,  its  hypocritical  and 
inconsistent    pretenders   to    religion,    its  impenetrable   and 
worldly-minded,  its  wayward  and  unstable  multitudes — all 
its  original  elements  of  character  unchanged.      And  as  Jeru- 
salem was  only  an  epitome  ot  the  world,  so  the  Gospel  is  an 
epitome  of  the  character  of  Christ ;  consequently,  name  what 
event  you  will  in  the  history  of  Christ,  the  counterpart  of 
that  event  is  to  be  found  among  ourselves.      The  history  of 
the  Gospel  among  a  people  is  but  the  life  of  Jesus  rej^eated 
over  ao'ain;  repeated,  too,  not  with  the  omission  of  its  more 
tragic  parts — ^but,  alas!  with  a  most  minute  and   faithful 
repetition  of  all  its  most  affecting  details.      Could  we  learn 
its  history  in  this  place — among  those  who  have  worshipped 
within  these   walls — we   should  find   that  no   part  of  the 
original  tragedy  had  been  omitted  through  want  of  persons 
to   sustain  its   most  revolting  parts.     We  should  see  His 
rejection  enacted  again — we  should  see  Him  betrayed  for 
money — deserted  by  His  professed  disci^^les — delivered  into 
the  hands  of  His  enemies — derided  and  spit  upon ;  we  should 
behold  Him  crowned   with  thorns — and  clothed  with   the 
mock  purple — and  led  away  to  be  crucified;  yea,  to  complete 
the   representation,   we   should   behold   "the    Son   of  God 
crucified  afresh,  and  put  to  an  open  shame.'"' 

Now,  if  it  be  so — if  the  history  of  the  Gospel  among  a  joeople 
be  only  the  history  of  Christ  among  the  Jews  revived  and 
enacted    agahi,    we   cannot    suppose    that    an   incident   so 


CHEIST  WEEPING  OVER  JERUSALEM.  2G9 

important  as  that  in  the  text  will  be  omitted.  The  coimtcr- 
part  of  that  is  sm^e  to  be  found  in  the  history  of  every 
Christian  congregation.  That  tender,  touching  scene  was 
only  a  rehearsal  of  what  would  take  place  wherever  the 
Gospel  came — of  what  has  been  repeated  here  times  without 
number — of  what  is  transpiring  here  this  evening,  at  this 
moment.  Come,  then,  my  friends,  give  activity  to  your 
thoughts — imagine,  realize  the  scene — apply  it  to  yourselves. 
Let  this  assembly  represent  Jerusalem ;  how  often  has  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  been  here — here  with  messages  of  mercy,  offers 
of  salvation,  beseeching  you  to  be  reconciled  to  God!  Son^e 
of  you — a  small  number — have  been  prevailed  on  to  take  up 
your  cross,  and  to  follow  Him.  But  for  the  great  majority — 
alas!  for  the  wavering,  the  insensibility,  the  unbelief,  the 
unsubdued  though  concealed  enmity  of  your  hearts!  But 
He  has  drawn  near  to  you  again  this  evening — and  as  He 
came,  like  the  multitude  which  met  Him  on  His  approach 
to  Jerusalem,  you  sang,  "Hosannah,  Blessed  is  he  that 
cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord.''  But  as  you  sang,  there 
was  no  joy  in  His  countenance,  no  triumph  in  His  eyes, 
respecting  you.  How  could  there  be?  He  thought  of  the 
past — ^your  past  convictions  sinned  away — past  impressions 
effaced — past  opportunities  and  privileges  all  lost.  He 
thought  of  the  future — your  sick  chamber— your  unavailing 
regrets — your  last  hour — your  S23irit  disembodied,  standing 
for  judgment  at  the  bar  of  God — and  then  the  awful  scenes 
beyond — all,  all  were  present  to  His  view.  He  marked  how 
much  of  your  day  of  grace  is  gone — saw,  perhaps,  that  the 
shadows  of  evening  are  coming  on — the  last  sands  of  the  last 
hour  runnins:  out — the  voice  of  time  about  to  sound  tlie 
knell  of  departed  hope,  the  loss  of  yom-  soul.  And  as  He 
took  this  comprehensive  survey,  whatever  the  eyes  of  others 
might  look  at.  His  eyes  fixed,  settled  in  an  anxious,  yearning, 
compassionate  gaze  on  your  souls.  "  And  as  He  drew  near 
and  beheld  you.  He  wept  over  you,  saying,  If  thou  hadst 
known,  even  thou,  at  least  in  this  thy  day  the  things  which 


270  CHRIST  WEEPING  OYER  JERUSALEM. 

belong  imto  thy  peace! — but  now  tliey  are  bid  from  thine 
eyes ! " 

And  shall  these  precious  tears,  and  this  gracious  lamenta- 
tion, be  lost  on  you?  May  the  Holy  Spirit  of  Christ  so 
prepare  you  to  receive  that  brief  j)ersonal  application  of  the 
subject  which  now  remains  to  be  made,  that  you  may  be  led 
to  return  Him  tears  for  tears !  Lift  up  a  prayer  to  Him  that 
this  may  be  the  case — that  you  may  know  this  day  of  your 
visitation. 

1.  And,  first,  my  friends,  you  are  to  mark  that  there  are 
things  ■which  jore-eminently  belong  to  your  i^eace.  You  know 
this — that  sin  has  ruined  you,  made  you  heirs  of  the  bottom- 
less pit — that  there  is  a  pardoning  God,  an  almighty  Saviour, 
a  sanctifying  Spirit — these  are  things  so  familiar  to  you,  as 
belonging  to  your  peace,  that  to  enlarge  on  them  now  is 
quite  unnecessary.  You  hear  of  them  every  Sabbath — you 
admit  that,  while  other  things  may  be  necessary  to  your 
health,  your  worldly  reputation,  and  ease,  the  knowledge  of 
this  is  indispensable  to  your  eternal  wellbeing — that  "it  is 
for  your  life."  God  himself  keeps  up  an  intercourse  with 
the  world  solely  for  the  purpose  of  urging  them  upon  you. 
And  often,  when  He  has  been  reminding  you  that  they  are 
vital  to  your  peace,  your  own  conscience  has  instantly 
replied,  "  They  are  so  " — has  instantly  put  its  seal  to  the 
fact,  and  joined  with  God  in  attesting  their  infinite  import- 
ance. You  distinctly  see  that  these  Gospel  truths  are  "  the 
great  things''  of  God — elements  of  happiness,  means  of 
salvation — that  the  withdi-awment  of  them  would  be  destruc- 
tion— that  the  loss  of  one  of  them  would  be  fatal  to  our 
hope — that  if  you  are  saved,  it  must  be  by  receiving  and 
acting  on  them.  And  it  may  be  that  for  years  there  has 
been  floating  in  your  mind  a  vague  intention  that  you  will 
certainly  at  some  time  begin  to  regard  them  with  the  serious- 
ness their  importance  deserves. 

2.  But  while  you  are  thus  trifling  with  these  momentous 
affaii^s,    remember,    secondly,    the   period    allotted    you   for 


CHEIST  WEEPING  OVEE  JERUSALEM.  271 

attending  to  them  is  definite  and  brief — it  is  here  called 
your  day.  It  deserves  this  name,  you  will  allow,  on  account 
of  the  light  it  affords  you  to  work  out  your  salvatioii.  The 
Sun  of  Righteousness  has  arisen  in  your  horizon,  and  how 
strong  and  cheering  the  beams  which  now  fall  on  the  2:)ath 
to  heaven !  What  light  has  streamed  in  ui:)on  your  conscience 
— how  affluent  you  are  made  in  means  of  grace — what  faci- 
lities and  helj^s  are  brought  near  to  you— what  favourable 
conjunctures  are  constantly  occurring,  and  appearing  to 
invite  you  to  surrender  to  Christ!  and  how  many  around 
you  are  admonishing  you,  both  by  their  voice  and  their 
example,  to  work  while  it  is  day. 

But  the  period  assigned  you  is  a  day  especially  on  account 
of  {^5  brevity,  and  the  certainty  of  its  termination.  It  is 
made  up  of  hours  and  minutes;  and,  like  every  other  day, 
it  hastens  to  its  close.  Noiu,  while  your  pulse  is  beating — 
while  the  blood  is  circulating  through  your  frame — the  day 
of  salvation  is  wearing  away.  Noiu,  while  the  hand  of  time 
is  silently  counting  out  its  moments — now,  while  you  are 
thinking  of  to-morrow,  and  are  projecting  schemes  of  gain 
or  iDleasure— behold,  now,  your  day  of  opportunity  is  fast 
advancing  to  a  close.  Your  religious  indifference  does  uot 
stop  it — your  apathy  does  not  check  it  in  its  flight.  It  is, 
at  this  moment,  closing  with  multitudes — now,  now,  the 
things  of  their  peace  are  hid  from  their  eyes — never  will 
they  look  on  them  more.  Oh!  that  awful,  that  emphatic 
now!  JS^ciu  they  are  hid — a  short  time  ago,  a  few  hours 
ago,  they  were  not  hid — but  now  they  are.  Their  day  has 
closed,  their  sun  is  set — they  have  had  it— they  have  lost  it 
—  and  now  they  are  in  the  act  of  passing  into  the  presence 
of  Him  who  gave  it  to  them.  A  little  space  longer,  and  you 
will  follow  them.  Yes,  it  will  be  ouly  a  rapid  succession  of 
hours  and  minutes,  and  you  will  have  to  look  back — but 
upon  what?  You  will  have  to  look  back,  not  merely  on 
your  day  of  salvation,  which  you  are  now  neglecting,  but 
upon  that  terrible  moment  when  it  closed — when  you  stood 


272  CHPvIST  WEEPING  OVER  JERUSALEM. 

at  the  bar  of  God — when  He  laid  open  the  secrets  of  your 
life — when  you  heard  His  a^vful  voice  pronounce  "  depart " 
— the  moment  when  you  first  began  to  date  your  woe. 

3.  And  this  calls  you  to  reflect,  thirdly,  that  should  your 
day  of  opportunity  close,  and  leave  you  unsaved,  your  guilt 
will  be  great,  and  your  condition  remediless.  How  can  it  be 
otherwise  ?  You  will,  in  that  case,  have  forced  your  way  to 
perdition  through  a  region  of  salvation — you  will  have 
penetrated  into  the  land  of  woe,  while  carrying  a  lamp 
lighted  at  the  altar  of  heaven  in  your  hand.  You  will  have 
fallen  into  the  jaws  of  destruction,  by  extricating  yourself  out 
of  the  grasp  of  Divine  compassion.  What  a  pitiable  spec- 
tacle will  you  present !  An  intelligent  and  immortal  being 
benighted  at  noonday — surrounding  himself  with  thick 
darkness  in  the  midst  of  the  clearest  light — stumbling  into 
perdition,  while  yet  it  is  broad  day,  the  day  of  salvation. 
And  not  only  so,  not  only  lost  in  spite  of  all  the  means  of 
recovery,  but  lost  hy  them — turning  that  which  was  meant 
to  be  a  savour  of  life  into  an  element  of  condemnation — a 
Saviour  present,  and  you  yet  lost — exhorted  by  Him,  en- 
treated, and  yet  lost — wept  over,  and  yet  lost — followed  by 
Him,  even  to  the  mouth  of  the  bottomless  pit,  and  yet  lost 
— followed  by  His  tears  while  descending,  going  doAvn  into 
it,  but  yet  lost ! 

4.  Now,  fourthly,  this  is  a  spectacle  calling  for  the  pro- 
foundest  lamentation.  Little  as  at  j^resent  it  may  affect  you; 
"  it  is  a  lamentation,  and  shall  be  for  a  lamentation.'"  There 
is  in  it  a  mystery  of  guilt,  which  none  but  God  can  fathom 
— there  is  involved  in  it  an  eternity  of  sorrow.  The  period 
will  come  when  you  yourself  will  begin  that  sorrow;  mean- 
while, Jesus  weeps,  and  He  calls  on  all  His  people  to  join 
with  Him  in  lamenting  your  forlorn  condition.  Christians, 
your  Saviour  calls  on  you  to  unite  with  Him  in  a  lamentation, 
to  mingle  your  tears  with  His  over  your  jDcrishing  fellow- 
hearers — they  are  with  you  in  the  same  seats,  sitting  by  your 
side — but  His  tears  tell  you  they  are  perishing.     Join  Him 


CHEIST  WEEPING  OVER  JERUSALEM.  273 

in  the  grief — let  Him  not  weep  alone — it  is  a  tender,  solemn, 
mighty  grief — if  they  luill  perish,  let  them  not  perish 
milamented — if  they  luill  precipitate  themselves  into  the 
gulf  of  perdition,  follow  them  to  the  brink — let  them  have, 
to  the  last,  your  commiseration,  your  teiirs. 

5.  But,  fiftlily,  let  them  behold  in  the  tears  of  Jesus  a  proof 
of  His  unextinguished  compassion  for  them,  and  an  induce- 
ment to  apply  to  Him  at  once  for  salvation.  Say  not,  my 
friends,  say  not  that  your  day  of  hope  has  closed  in  darkness. 
If  you  really  fear  it,  we  can  assure  you  that  there  is  hope  for 
you  in  that  very  fear. 

In  order  to  rekindle  and  animate  that  hope,  shall  I  remind 
you  of  the  grace  of  the  Saviour's  conduct  towards  the  guilty 
city — the  grace  which  He  shewed  it,  even  after  He  had 
wept  over  it  in  the  text,  and  had  apparently  abandoned  it  to 
its  doom  ?  Could  you  have  supposed  it  ?  They  had  filled 
.up  the  measure  of  their  sins  by  shedding  His  blood — 
yet  no  sooner  had  He  arisen  from  the  dead,  than  "He 
commanded  his  disciples  that  repentance  and  remission  of 
sins  should  be  preached  in  his  name  among  all  nations, 
heginning  at  Jerusalem/'  Could  tears  have  washed  away 
the  crimson  guilt  of  its  inhabitants,  they  would  now  have 
needed  no  remission;  for  over  them  the  Man  of  sorrows 
had  dissolved  into  grief  Could  kindness  have  melted  or 
moved  them,  they  woukl  not  now  have  needed  an  exliortation 
to  repentance ;  for  His  last  anguish  on  the  cross  included  a 
pang  of  compassion  for  them — and  for  them  He  had  saved 
His  latest  breath  to  pray,  "Father,  forgive  them;  for  they 
know  not  what  they  do."  Yet  now,  no  sooner  does  He  find 
Himself  in  a  capacity  to  bless,  than  He  exercises  His  preroga- 
tive in  blessing  them.  AVe  might  almost  as  soon  have 
expected  that  He  would  have  sent  His  Gospel  to  be  pro- 
claimed over  the  mouth  of  perdition,  as  to  Jerusalem,  that 
hell  of  earth.  At  least,  we  should  have  expected  to  see  it 
makino-  the  circuit  of  the  earth,  before  it  came  there — to 
.  hear  Him  direct  His  disciples  to  wait  till  His  immediate 

s 


274  CHRIST  WEEPING  OVER  JERUSALEM. 

enemies  had  clescended  to  the  grave — to  visit  Jerusalem  last. 
But  His  thoughts  are  not  as  our  thoughts — the  course  of  His 
grace  admits  not  of  human  calculation — He  sends  them  to 
Jerusalem  first.  "While  the  eyes  of  His  enemies  are  yet 
gleaming  with  the  fire  of  triumphant  revenge,  He  commis- 
sions His  apostles  to  hasten  and  open  the  charter  of  redemp- 
tion within  sight  of  Calvary;  to  let  them  know  that,  whatever 
they  might  have  drawn  from  His  heart,  His  love  for  them 
remains  there  still;  to  assure  them  there  is  one  mode  of 
inflicting  on  Him  greater  pain  than  even  that  of  employing 
the  cross — by  obstinately  refusing  the  blessings  which  His 
cross  has  procured. 

Brethren,  behold  in  this  instance  of  unexampled  grace  an 
emblem  of  His  comj)assionate  concern  for  you.  As  if  you 
had  never  trifled  with  His  Gospel — never  rejected  His  great 
salvation;  as  if  He  had  forgotten  all  that  has  past — He 
this  evening  offers  you  repentance  and  the  remission  of  sins. 
Will  you  not  stretch  forth  the  hand  to  receive  them?  He  is 
at  this  moment  standing  before  you  with  the  hoarded  love  of 
eternity  in  His  heart,  off*ering  to  make  you  the  heirs  of  all 
its  wealth  :  nor  is  it  in  your  power  to  grieve  Him  more  than 
by  disregarding  the  gracious  overture.  His  eye  at  this 
moment  is  fixed  on  you — marking  with  gracious  solicitude 
the  emotions  and  fluctuations  of  your  breast — watching 
what  your  decision  is  likely  to  be.  Will  you  not  return  Him 
look  for  look — looks  of  contrition  for  his  looks  of  love  ?  He 
is  uttering  over  you  the  lamentation,  "  Oh,  that  thou  hadst 
knoTvai  the  things  which  belong  unto  thy  peace ! — but  now,'' 
— shall  He  finish  the  sentence? — shall  He  add  the  awful 
remainder  ? — will  you  not  entreat  Him  to  pause — to  forbear 
pronouncing  them  hid  from  your  eyes  ?  He  tuould  pause — 
He  would  lengthen  out  your  day  of  grace. 

Only  do  not  any  longer  trifle — no  longer  delay.  He  fears 
nothing  but  your  neglect — deprecates  nothing  but  your 
inattention.  He  draws  a  line  across  your  path,  and  demands 
that  before  you  cross  it  you  will  come  to  a  decision  about 


CHRIST  WEEPING  OVER  JERUSALEM.  275 

your  soul's  salvation.  He  now  draws  around  you  a  small 
circle  of  time,  and  He  demands,  He  entreats  you,  that  this 
evening,  before  you  come  out  of  it,  you  will  end  your  delay, 
and  fall  at  His  feet.  And  will  you  not  yield  to  His  entreaties 
— His  tears?  Before  this  night  closes  shall  He  not  see  you  a 
suj)pliant  for  mercy — shall  He  not  hear  you  saying,  "  Tarn 
me,  0  Lord,  and  I  shall  be  turned — save,  Lord,  or  I 
perish''? 

Oh,  did  you  know  the  unutterable  interest  which  He  takes 
in  every  serious  emotion  of  your  soul — every  symptom  of 
penitence — you  would  flee  to  Him  at  once — you  would  give 
Him  your  heart !  The  first  look  you  direct  to  Him  will  not 
escape  His  notice — the  first  step  you  take  towards  Him  would 
bring  Him  more  than  a  step  towards  you.  All  things  are 
ready  for  your  reception — He  v/ill  meet  your  weakness  with 
His  almighty  strength — your  emptiness  and  poverty  with  His 
inexhaustable  fulness.  He  would  rejoice  over  you  with  sing- 
ing; He  would  rest  in  His  love;  He  would  proclaim  a  jubilee 
in  heaven,  and  call  the  universe  to  share  His  joy. 


276         THE  EEDEEMER  CONTEMPLATIXa 


SERMON  XII. 

THE  EEDEEMER  CONTEMPLATING  HIS  HOUR  AS  COSIR 

JOIIN  xii.  27 — "  Now  is  my  soul  trou])led  ;  and  what  shall  I  say?  Father, 
save  me  from  this  hour:  But  for  this  cause  came  I  unto  this 
HOUR.     Father,  glorify  thy  name," 

There  is,  I  believe,  a  principle  of  universal  capplication 
underlying  this  great  utterance — the  principle  that  there  is 
an  hour  in  the  history  of  every  intelligent  being  for  which 
every  previous  hour  of  his  life  is  a  designed  and  continuous 
opportunity  of  preparation.  And  the  practical  application 
of  the  principle  seems  to  be  this:  that  the  nature  and 
responsibilities  of  this  hour  should  be  ascertained — that  its 
coming  should  be  provided  for — that  its  conscious  approach 
and  arrival  would  bring  with  it  a  deep  consecrating  sense  of 
responsibility — and  that  on  our  meeting  and  discharging  tlie 
responsibilities  of  such  an  hour  may  be  susj^ended  conse- 
quences of  unknown  magnitude. 

Now,  this  application  is  so  appropriate,  and  so  fruitful  of 
suggestion  for  an  occasion  like  the  present,  that  I  should 
proceed  to  it  at  once,  had  the  principle  itself  come  out  in  tlie 
ordinary  teaching  of  Scripture — in  the  mere  teaching  of 
even  Christ  himself  But  in  this  utterance,  He  is  actinrj  and 
suffering,  rather  than  speaking.  He  has  ceased  to  be  the 
mere  prophet  or  teacher,  and  has  put  on  His  priestly  attire. 
He  speaks  not  so  much  to  earth  as  to  heaven.  His  words 
are  for  the  ear  of  God.  It  is  as  if  He  had  gone  back,  in 
spirit,  and  for  a  moment,  to  the  bosom  of  the  Father.     He 


HIS  HOUE  AS  COME.  277 

does  not  so  miicli  state  the  principle  as  embody  it,  snfFer  it, 
become  it.  His  whole  natm^e  comes  out  in  it  like  incense — 
a  sacrificial  exhalation.  For  us,  who  believe  that  He  is  ''the 
Lamb  slain  from  the  foundation  of  the  world'' — that  the 
unfolding  of  the  whole  scheme  of  mercy  was  made  to  depend 
on  the  foresight  of  that  hour ;  for  us,  He  has  both  made  the 
principle,  and  made  us  for  it — made  it  possible  for  us  to  take 
it  up  into  our  own  nature,  and  to  make  our  life  an  exposition 
of  it. 


Let  us  look  first,  then,  at  the  deep  unique  significance  of 
the  language  as  it  came  from  the  lips  of  the  Son  of  God. 

1.  It  may  be  proper  that  we  should  glance,  first,  at  the 
nature  of  this  hour.  V/hat  was  about  to  take  place?  and 
why  was  it  to  occur  noiu  ?  If  wisdom  is  distinguished  from 
folly  by  acting  on  a  plan— if  "  God  only  wise  "  acts  according 
to  a  scheme  in  which  every  event  has  its  permitted  or  its 
appointed  time  and  place — and  if  there  be  some  one  event 
of  transcendent  interest,  it  is  to  be  expected  that  for  that 
event,  pre-eminently,  an  hour  will  be  appointed,  which  nothing 
will  be  permitted  to  hasten,  nothing  to  delay.  Such  was  the 
event  about  to  take  place.  Man  from  the  first  had  been 
placed  under  a  system  of  righteous  moral  government ;  and 
from  the  first  he  had  occupied  himself  chiefly  in  resisting 
that  government,  and  in  attempting  to  ward  ofi"  the  ruinous 
results.  And  now,  "  God  manifest  in  the  flesh  "  was  about 
to  set  before  the  universe  His  own  practical  estimate  of  the 
reasonableness  of  that  government,  and,  consequently,  of  the 
unreasonableness  and  wickedness  of  man's  rebellion  ao-ainst 
it.  But  would  not  this  be  a  display  of  love  unparalleled? 
This  was  the  very  heart  of  the  design.  The  vindication  of 
the  Divine  government  required  the  actual  incarnation  of  a 
Divine  person — required  from  Him  a  life  of  obedience,  ter- 
minating in  a  crisis  which  we,  who  are  standing  outside  the 
mystery,  and  see  only  some  of  the  signs,  call  death,  and  of 


278  THE  EEDEEIMER  CONTEMPLATING 

which  crucifixion  was  one  of  the  signs — a  crisis  of  the  stress 
of  which  all  sacrificial  blood,  and  all  martyr  j)angs  in  one, 
would  only  sujiply  a  hint — a  crisis  of  which  the  unfathomable 
deeps  could  not  be  made  visible  or  utterable — and,  therefore, 
a  crisis  the  endurance  of  which  could  only  be  accounted  for 
as  the  outbursting  of  a  long  pent-up  ocean  of  the  love  of 
God — love  larger  than  all  law,  deeper  than  all  misery — 
love  that  could  fill  up  and  overflow  all  laws  and  all  hearts, 
and  bear  both  on  its  tide  into  the  presence  of  God.  And 
the  reason  why  this  crisis  had  come  noiu — at  least,  the 
one  reason  with  which  lue  have  to  do — was,  that  the  state 
of  the  world  itself  had  reached  a  crisis.  Man  himself  was 
without  strength — had  exhausted  his  last  expedient  to  do 
without  God — and  was  fast  collapsing  —  sinking  into  a 
condition  in  which  the  Divine  remedy  itself  would  be  in 
danger  of  failure.  "Known  unto  God  are  all  his  works 
from  the  beoinningj  of  the  world.''  And  now  had  arrived 
the  time  for  God's  great  work.  Time,  from  the  beginning, 
had  been  set  to  it.  The  world  had  been  spared  for  this 
hour.  And  now,  as  its  last  sands  were  running  oiit,  "For 
this  cause,"'  said  Christ — to  meet  the  crisis — "  am  I  come  to 
this  hour." 

2.  Can  we  wonder  then,  next,  at  His  awful  and  mysterious 
agitation  in  the  near  pros2)ect  of  that  hour,  and  of  all  that 
was  dependent  on  it?  On  this  profound  subject  I  will  only 
say,  that  even  with  my  poor  human  conceptions  of  that  hour, 
I  can  much  more  easily  account  to  myself  for  the  presence 
of  such  agitation,  than  I  should  have  been  able  to  account  for 
its  absence.  Oh !  who  has  not  felt  at  one  time  or  another 
the  burden  of  an  unfinished  work?  Who  that  has  found 
himself  pledged  to  a  great  undertaking,  with  weighty  inte- 
rests de2:)ending  on  its  completion,  formidable  obstacles 
impeding  that  completion,  and  with -unnumbered  eyes  fixed 
on  him  in  ardent  expectation — who,  under  such  circum- 
stances, has  not  known  what  is  meant  by  anxious  days  and 
sleepless  nights  ?     Undertakings  there  have  been  so  compli- 


HIS  HOUR  AS  COME.  279 

cated  and  weighty,  that  the  parties  concerned,  though  fully 
alive  to  theii-  excellence,  have  gradually  sunk  under  the 
responsibility,  till  reason  has  fled,  or  life  itself  has  been 
pressed  out.  And  yet  all  these  together,  when  compared 
with  the  crisis  of  that  hour,  were  only  as  a  feather  compared 
with  the  weight  of  the  material  universe. 

But  of  all  the  anxious  moments  belonging  to  an  unfinished 
work,  who  does  not  know  that  those  endured  on  the  eve  of 
its  completion  are  the  most  trying — that  they  grow  in  inte- 
rest as  they  draw  to  an  end,  till  the  interest  of  the  whole 

affair  seems  crowded  and  compressed  into  the  last  moment 

every  incident  that  occurs  is  interpreted  into  a  token  of 
success  or  of  failure,  and  we  feel  incapacitated  for  everythino- 
— painfidly  straitened  till  it  is  accomplished?  AYas  it  to  be 
wondered  at,  then,  that  our  Lord  should  have  felt  this,  now 
that  the  great  work  of  redemption  had  reached  the  very  eve 
of  its  completion  ?  There  was  a  time  when  that  work  was 
indefinitely  distant ;  and  even  then  He  felt  it  in  all  its 
imposing  magnitude.  But  that  distance  of  thousands  of 
years  had  gradually  dwindled  to  centimes — and  those  centu- 
ries of  years  to  tens— and  those  years  to  months— and  those 
months  to  weeks— and  those  weeks  to  days — and  those  days 
to  hours— till  now,  lifting  up  His  eyes  to  heaven,  he  could  ' 
say,  "Father,  the  hour  is  come!'' 

3.  What,  then,  was  the  grand  consideration  which  induced 
Him  to  meet  that  hour  in  the  face  of  all  oj^posing  motives  ? 
The  fact  that  all  the  past  had  existed  in  order  to  it,  and  would 
be  summed  up  in  it,  to  the  glory  of  God.  For  here  we  are 
taught  the  great  truth,  that  our  Lord's  death  is  not  to  be 
viewed  as  an  isolated  event — standing  apart  from  all  that 
went  before — but  as  the  culmination  and  completion  of  the 
whole.  And  the  subject  of  the  awful  soliloquy  in  the  text 
is — Shall  the  great  God-work,  of  which  the  cross  would  form 
the  completion,  be  left  incomplete,  on  account  of  the  surpris- 
ing intensity  of  that  crisis  ?  True,  it  would  bring  on  the 
great  conflict  vrith  the  powers  of  evil.     An  invisible  foe 


280  t       THE  EEDEEMER  CONTEMPLATING 

already  confronted  Him.  A  crowded  field,  impalpable  to 
human  eye,  was  gathering  around  Him.  He  who  had  ever 
been  saying,  "  Let  there  be  light,"  was  now  to  come  into 
collision  with  him  who  had  ever  been  saying,  "  Let  there  be 
darkness  '' — for  "  this  was  their  hour,  and  the  j^ower  of  dark- 
ness."" But  for  this  cause,  especially  for  this  moral  encoun- 
ter, He  is  here;  and  shall  all  His  previous  triumphs  end  in 
present  defeat  ?  No,  said  He,  as  He  girded  himself  for  the 
onset — "  Now  shall  the  prince  of  this  world  be  cast  out  : 
and  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up  from  the  earth,  will  draw  all  men  unto 
me.  Father,  glorify  thy  name!''  True,  again,  the  act  of 
obedience  noiu  required  at  His  hands,  exceeds  every  j^revious 
act — for  it  is  "  obedience  unto  death.''  But  for  this  cause 
He  has  passed  through  all  those  j^revious  acts,  training  Him- 
self for  it — "  learning  obedience  by  the  things  which  He 
suffered  " — qualifying  Himself  to  become  one  vast  capacity 
for  suffering,  an  organized  sacrifice;  and  shall  He  neutralize 
(thus  reasoned  His  Divine  spirit  of  self-sacrifice),  shall  He 
dissipate  all  the  j^ast,  by  declining  the  last,  the  crowning 
act  ?     "  Father,  glorify  thy  name." 

True,  aoain,  he  was  now  standino;  face  to  face  with  the 
Cross.  But  when  had  He  not  been  bearing  a  cross?  From  the 
moment  of  man's  fall — the  moral  world,  whatever  the  shape  of 
the  material — the  moral  world  had  never  worn  for  Him  any 
other  form  than  that  of  a  cross,  and  He  had  borne  it.  "  0 
Jerusalem,  Jerusalem,"  said  He,  "  how  often  would  I  have 
gathered  thee  !  "  And  how  often,  while  bearing  that  moral 
cross,  had  he  pointed  the  finger  of  j^ioj^hacy  to  this  hour. 
And  for  this  cause  had  He  now  come  to  it,  that  He  might 
openly,  before  all  w^orlds,  vindicate  that  government  which 
man  had  occupied  himself  chiefly  in  resisting,  vindicate  it  by 
rendering  to  it  the  homage  of  His  own  self-sacrifice.  "  Father, 
glorify  thy  name  !  " 

And  true,  also,  if  man  is  ever  to  see  the  i^ang  and  the 
travail  of  infinite  love,  this  last  great  sacrifice  must  be  made. 
How  else,  tell  me,  in  what  other  way,  can  I  know  the  infini- 


HIS  HOUE  AS  COME.  281 

tucle  of  His  love  ?  Mere  pardon  would  not  prove  it.  Easy, 
unboiiglit,  indulgent  forgiveness  may  only  prove  that  He 
thinks  little  of  sin,  of  the  authority  of  law,  or  of  the  claims 
of  justice.  But  the  time  might  come*  the  occasion  might 
arise  in  the  history  of  the  universe,  when  He  might  cease  to 
pardon  thus.  The  wellbeing  of  His  government  might 
require  Him  to  act  up  to  the  claims  of  law— to  pardon  only 
on  the  condition  of  an  adequate  moral  compensation.  But 
here  such  an  hour  has  actually  come — here,  and  now,. the 
dreaded  crisis  has  come— come  as  the  condition  of  all  for- 
giveness—and the  question  is,  Will  His  love  prove  equal  to 
it?  Other  sacrifices  it  may  make,  other  tests  and  trials  it 
may  survive ;  but  it  it  will  not  endure  the  stress  of  this,  it 
is  not,  after  all,  unlimited — its  limits  are  ascertained. 

"What  then,''  some  one  may  say;  "was  there  really  an 
hour  in  which  the  redeeming  purpose  was  in  suspense  ?  AVas 
there  a  moment  in  which  the  great  question  of  redemption 
trembled  in  the  balance  ?  What!  and  when  the  great  work 
was  so  near  completion  ?  "  What !  I  ask  in  reply;  and  do 
you  forget  that  we  are  speaking  of  sacrifice  ?  You  surely  do 
not  suppose  that  all  the  reasons  were  on  the  side  of  making 
it.  That  would  do  away  with  the  very  idea  of  sacrifice.  Do 
you  remember  luJio  is  to  be  the  sacrifice  ?  Do  you  remember 
that  it  is  to  be  such  a  sacrifice  as  is  to  settle  the  question 
once  and  for  ever  that  God  is  love?  Why,  it  is  to  be  so  vast 
a  proof,  that  if  the  Saviour  has  had  to  train  Himself  for  the 
hour.  He  has  had  also  to  train  and  enlarge  the  human  mind 
to  expect  and  to  comprehend  it.  The  magnitude  of  creation 
was  meant  to  prepare  me  for  something  greater  still  in  re- 
demption. In  the  wonders  of  the  one  I  only  see  Him  make 
bare  His  arm ;  what  may  I  not  expect,  then,  when  He  shaU 
lay  bare  His  heart!  For  this  cause  I  see  Him  first  put  on 
my  human  nature— become  a  man  ;  and /or  this  cause  I  now 
see  Him  stand  within  sight  of  the  cross,  prepared  to  prove 
in  His  own  person  the  infinite  love  of  God ! 

And  can  you  wonder,  I  repeat,  that  He  should  have  been 


282  THE  EEDEEMER  CONTEMPLATING 

heard  to  say,  "  Now  is  my  soul  troubled"?  Why,  nature  was 
troubled.  Creation  trembled.  All  the  interests  of  time  were 
at  stake.  Every  lover  of  mercy  was  there,  every  minister  of 
Divine  justice,  every  friend  of  man.  He  saw  that  there  was  not 
an  eye  which  was  not  fixed  on  Him — not  a  law  which  did  not 
look  to  Him ;  felt  that  there  was  not  a  princij^le  which  was 
not  resting  on  Him  entirely  for  support.  And  "  now,"  said 
He,  with  all  the  Divine  caj)abilities  of  His  nature  in  stress, 
"  now  is  my  soul  troubled."  The  vastness  of  the  crisis  rose 
up  before  Him.  Reasons  the  most  profound  urge  themselves 
why  it  should  be  allowed  to  pass.  If  love  be  not  stronger 
than  all,  it  will  2^'^ss.  If  the  heart  of  God  be  not  larger  than 
all  law,  it  will  pass,  and  man  perish.  Now,  now,  if  the  love 
of  God  for  man  is  not  infinite,  the  cords  of  the  sacrifice  will 
be  severed,  and  the  victim  go  free.  "  Now  is  my  soul 
troubled,  a  n  d  what  shall  I  say .? "  Oh !  if  ever  there  was  silence 
in  heaven,  if  ever  the  universe  was  hushed,  was  it  not  then  to 
hear  what  he  would  say  ?  Imagine  the  answer  delayed — the 
pause  prolonged.  But  no ;  the  reply  was  ready,  "  For  this 
cause  came  I  to  this  hour  :  Father,  glorify  thy  name  1 "  In 
that  prayer  all  the  preparations,  feelings,  desires,  and  pur- 
l^oses  of  the  past  were  collected  and  concentrated — it  was  the 
embodiment  of  all  law,  and  the  expression  of  all  love. 
"  Father,  glorify  thy  name  " — at  that  utterance  a  burden  fell 
from  the  minds  of  the  blessed,  the  universe  breathed  more 
freely.  The  cup  does  not  pass.  Love  triumphs.  Beyond 
this  He  cannot  go  ;  even  He  cannot  go.  "  Herein  is  love  " 
— the  love  of  His  heart,  the  heart  of  His  love.  In  proving 
Himself  equal  to  that  crisis.  He  has  proved  Himself  equal  to 
every  crisis  that  can  arise.  No  extreme  moee  stupendous 
than  this  can  be  encountered  in  the  history  of  the  universe. 
"  For  this  cause,"  said  He,  "  came  I  to  this  hour : "  and  it 
was  because  He  luas  there,  and  because  He  accej)ted  that 
hour  with  all  its  Godlike  responsibilities,  that  we  are  here  at 
this  hour — that  the  world  may  be  saved,  as  far  as  He  is  con- 
cerned, at  any  hour — that  all  the  hours  ol  eternal  blessedness 


HIS  HOUE  AS  COME.  283 

await  us — and  that  heaven  at  this  hour  is  overflowing  with 
the  strain,  "  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain ! '' 

II. 

1.  Now,  though  that  hour  stands  alone  in  the  world's  his- 
tory, there  was,  first,  I  repeat,  a  great  principle  underlying  it 
of  universal  application — the  principle  that  there  is  an  hour  or 
period  in  the  life  of  every  man,  every  Christian,  every  Church, 
every  community  of  Churches,  for  which  every  previous  hour 
is  a  designed  means  of  preparation.  The  hour  was  media- 
torial, and  therefore  unique — the  princijjle  is  moral,  and  there- 
fore universal.  Every  human  being  is  responsible,  at  every 
moment  of  his  existence,  for  such  an  amount  of  excellence 
and  such  a  capacity  for  usefulness  as  he  would  have  acquired 
had  he  cultivated  his  moral  nature  to  the  utmost  throuoh 
every  previous  moment  of  his  being.  Christ  came  not  to 
exempt  us  from  this  principle,  but  to  gather  up  and  expiate 
the  guilt  of  our  violation  of  it,  and  so  to  put  us  once  more  in 
the  way  of  obeying  it  from  loftier  motives.  According  to 
the  ideal  of  the  Divine  government,  every  age  of  the  world, 
and  therefore  every  member  of  every  age,  is  bound  to  regard, 
not  only  every  hour  of  his  own  life,  but  of  all  historic  time, 
as  the  means  of  his  own  preparation  and  progress.  Is  not 
this  the  meaning  of  such  passages  as  this — "  That  upon  you 
may  come  all  the  righteous  blood  shed  upon  the  earth,  from 
the  blood  of  righteous  Abel.  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  all  these 
things  shall  come  upon  this  generation''?  Why?  Not  that 
the  earlier  generations  were  not  guilty  and  punishable  in 
their  degree,  but  that  each  generation,  as  it  comes  on  the 
stage  of  life,  and  finds  itself  surrounded  with  evil,  brings 
with  it  means  for  reducing  that  evil,  and  is  held  respon- 
sible for  employing  them  to  the  utmost.  That  is  its  hour. 
If,  however,  it  lifts  no  protest,  organizes  no  remedial  force, 
then  it  is  regarded  as  accepting  that  evil,  adopting  it,  making- 
it  all  its  own,'  with  the  further  guilt  of  adding  its  own  signa- 
tm^e  and  sanction,  and  so  reinforcino-  it  for  all  the  future. 


284}  THE  EEDEEMEE  CONTEMPLATING 

Is  not  tliis,  too,  the  force  of  tlie  grand  appeal,  "Ye  are 
come  unto  Llonnt  Sion,  and  unto  the  city  of  the  living  God, 
the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  and  to  an  innumerable  company  of 
angels;  to  the  general  assembly  and  church  of  the  first-born 
enrolled  in  heaven''?  And  as  the  apostle  proceeds  with  his 
inventory  of  the  Church's  moral  wealth,  we  are  to  remember 
that  it  is  the  piled-up  result  of  ages  of  accumulation.  Even 
the  Jewish  Church  was  always  becoming  richer.  But  we  are 
heirs  of  the  v/hole.  We  come  into  the  entire  j)roperty.  "We 
have  come  to  Jesus  the  mediator  oi  the  new  covenant,  and  to 
the  blood  of  sprinkling."  A  life  was  wanting  which  should 
gather  up  all  these  scattered  influences  of  the  past,  concen- 
trate them  in  an  embodied  form,  make  them  an  incarnate 
fact.  This  Christ  did  in  that  hoiu^ — baptizing  the  princi^Dle 
in  His  blood — augmenting  its  power  beyond  all  computation. 
Calvary  itself  is  but  Sinai  transfigured  —  law  changed  into 
love,  and  so  become  more  binding.  By  the  crisis  of  that 
hour  He  has  given  a  new  aspect  to  life  and  its  uses.  That 
hour,  so  far  from  discharging  us  from  service  and  suff'ering 
for  man's  recovery — that  hour  collected,  not  merely  all  the 
holy  influences  of  the  past,  but  all  the  rays  of  the  Sun  of 
Eighteousness  into  one  burning  focus  of  love,  to  be  ever  after 
held  over  the  heart  of  the  Church,  kindling  and  inflaming  it 
with  ardour  for  the  world's  salvation.  True;  the  world's 
redeinption  required  the  cross;  but  not  less  true  is  it. that  its 
salvation  involves  for  each  Christian  a  cross — cannot  be 
eff'ected  without.  This  is  the  very  law  of  Christian  disciple- 
ship — "If any  man  will  come  after  me,  let  him  deny  himself, 
and  take  up  his  cross  and  follow  me."  Brethren,  it  was  not 
meant  that  our  Lord's  hour  should  end  with  Himself  It 
was  not  meant  that  His  life  and  character  should  be  separated 
from  ours  by  a  great  cliasm — a  vast  abyss;  His  all  deeds, 
and  om-s  all  professions;  His  all  sacrifice,  all  Ceoss — and 
ours  all  ease  and  indulgence.  It  is  not  enough  for  the 
Church  to  glory  in  the  cross  as  the  symbol  of  its  own  salva- 
tion.    Is  it  taking  up  its  own  cross  in  the  work  of  saving 


HIS  HOUE  AS  COISIE.  285 

others?  Hcas  it  any  cross  of  its  owa^  Is  it  really  and  truly 
a  Church  militant — a  Church  confronting  the  world  like  an 
army  facing  the  foe? 

2.  Seasons  of  special  service  and  sacrifice,  secondly,  have 
actually  occurred,  and  are  recorded  in  the  history  of  the 
Church.  I  might  go  back  to  one  of  the  earliest  events  that 
befell  "the  Church  in  the  wilderness/'  As  early  as  the 
second  year  of  their  wanderings,  they  are  brought  up  to  the 
edge  of  the  promised  land.  Will  they  not  enter  at  once  and 
take  possession?  For  this  cause  they  have  been  brought  to 
this  place,  and  to  this  hour ;  and  have  been  trained  for  it  by 
miracle.  But  the  spies  bring  back  a  disheartening  report; 
the  people  prove  recreant  to  the  great  occasion;  and  their 
doom  is,  that  the  desert  shall  prove  their  grave,  and  thirty- 
eight  years  of  wandering  for  their  children.  I  believe  the 
whole  of  Israel's  history  to  possess  a  symbolic  value ;  and  I 
believe  that  the  Christian  Church  has  been  brought  up  to  the 
edge  of  many  a  promised  land,  and  that  it  had  had  a  training 
which  should  have  prepared  it  for  crossing;  but  that,  wanting 
in  the  faith,  the  fortitude,  the  Christian  heroism  necessary  for 
the  hour,  the  opportunity  was  lost,  and  many  a  forty  years' 
wandering,  desert  life  Vv^as  the  result. 

"Coming  to  the  New  Testament,  I  might  derive  examples 
from  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and  tvarmngs  from  the  seven 
Asiatic  Churches.  And  is  there  nothing  to  be  learned  to  the 
same  effect  from  the  history  of  the  Reformation?  Why  was 
it  that  that  mighty  j^rocess  stopped — stopped,  as  if  a  tide  in 
the  height  of  its  roll  and  rush  shoidd  be  suddenly  smitten 
into  marble?  The  work  of  the  Church  at  such  a  time  is 
twofold — internal  purification  and  external  aggression.  The 
Christianity  of  that  day  concerned  itself  only  with  the  former 
— its  OTvm  purification ;  the  hour  for  aggression  was  allowed 
to  pass  by  unimproved  ;  and,  in  just  retribution,  the  Church 
was  itself  soon  smitten  with  paralysis  and  spiritual  death. 

In  our  own  land,  the  time  for  another  Preformation  came. 
A  Wesley,  a  Whitfield,  and  a  band  of  apostolic  men   went 


286         THE  EEDEEMEE  CONTEMPLATING 

everywhere,  calling  the  world  to  repent,  and  the  Church  to 
awake  and  to  do  her  first  works.  And  you  know  what  trials 
— what  "deaths  oft''  they  endured  in  fulfilling  their  Divine 
commission.  That  was  their  hour.  What  if  they  had  shrunk 
from  it?  What  if  they  had  allowed  their  bitter  cup  to 
pass?  Humanly  speaking,  the  Church  in  this  land  would 
still  have  been  slumbering  on — would  have  died  in  its  sleep. 

Then  came  the  hour  for  the  great  missionary  movement. 
It  was  an  hour  that  demanded  qualities  of  the  highest  order 
— deep  dependence  on  God — heroic  indifference  to  the 
world's  ridicule,  ay,  and  to  the  timidity  and  unbelief  of 
parts  of  the  Church  itself — and  a  high,  enterprising,  self- 
denying  faith.  But  if  you  look  into  the  times  immediately 
prior,  you  will  find  that  numerous  influences  had  been  at 
work  in  the  nation  as  v/ell  as  in  the  Church,  training  us 
specifically  for  that  hour.  But  what  if  our  Christian  fathers 
had  evaded  its  responsibihties  ?  What  if  the  clouds  which  hung 
black  and  threatening  over  the  missionary  field  had  deterred 
them  from  entering  on  its  cultivation?  What  would — what 
could  have  been  our  condition  at  this  moment?  Why,  those 
clouds  which  have  now  discharged  themselves  in  fruitful 
showers  would  have  burst  on  us  in  blasting  and  mildew. 

Now,  I  suppose,  brethren,  that  this  is  the  principle  on 
which  the  history  of  every  Christian  denomination  is  written 
in  heaven.  Each  community  has  its  own  providential  train- 
ing. Each  has  its  OAvn  resources,  characteristics,  aptitudes. 
And  then  each  has  its  own  opportunities — ^not  only  those 
more  general  oj^portunities  which  it  may  have  in  common 
with  others — but  its  sj)ecial  calls  to  duty.  These  are  its 
hours — its  tests  and  turning  points — calling  frequently  for 
unusual  effort  and  faith,  and  even  sacrifice.  And  I  sui^pose 
its  history  in  heaven  is  very  much  the  history  of  its  conduct 
in  relation  to  these  hours.  Could  our  different  communities 
be  content  to  be  judged  by  the  way  in  which,  thus  far,  they 
have  met  such  hours? 

3.  The  example  of  Christ  in  the  text  teaches,  thirdly,  that 


HIS  HOUE  AS  COME.  287 

such  times  of  effort,  trial,  and  sacrifice  should  be  expected, 
prepared  for,  and  ascertained.-  "  He  that  hath  an  ear  to  hear, 
let  him  hear  what  the  Spirit  saith  unto  the  churches.''  The 
Spirit  is  always  speaking  to  the  Churches ;  but  if  their  ears 
come  to  be  filled  with  other  sounds,  His  voice  will  pass 
unheard.  Had  Paul  been  sinking  into  self-indulgence  at  the 
time,  he  would  have  had  no  vision  of  a  man  of  Macedonia 
crying  for  help.  Had  the  Church  at  Antioch  been  self- 
satisfied  and  worldly,  the  Spirit  might  have  said  once  and 
again,  "Separate  me  Paul  and  Barnabas  " — there  would  have 
been  no  ears  to  hear.  And  ought  not  the  Christian  commu- 
nity noiu,  which  has  no  visions,  no  calls,  no  marked  hours,  to 
be  restless  and  uneasy  ?  What,  none  in  a  world  still  perishing 
■ — in  a  world  in  which  the  heathen  jyurt  of  the  population 
increases  more  rapidly  than  our  rate  of  overtaking  them — in 
which  the  number  of  the  perishing  is  greater  noiu  than  it  ever 
has  been.  "0  righteous  Pather,  the  world  doth  not  yet  know 
thee  I"  0 blessed  Saviour,  the  Church  doth  not  yet  know  thee ! 
Why,  the  call  to  duty  is  louder  than  ever.  I  believe  that 
any  Church  truly  alive  to  its  Divine  vocation  would  have  all 
kinds  of  duty  put  on  it — all  kinds  of  hours  awaiting  it ; 
would  see  that  all  its  past  history  was  a  training  for  the 
present — went  for  nothing  except  as  it  bore  on  the  present; 
would  feel  that  all  its  reputation  for  past  self-sacrifice  and 
zeal,  so  far  from  being  a  discharge  from  similar  duty,  is  a  call 
to  yet  greater. 

4.  The  text  reminds  us,  further,  that  the  due  apprehension 
of  our  hour  would  invest  us  with  a  consecrating  sense  of 
responsibility.  Conscious  responsibihty  of  any  kind  dignifies 
character.  A  mere  political  crisis,  by  compelling  even  vicious 
men  to  identify  themselves  with  great  designs,  has  often 
rescued  them  for  a  time  from  their  degradation,  and  given 
them  nobility.  They  have  caught  a  kind  of  grandeur  of 
character  from  their  position. 

But  away  with  mere  shadows  and  surfaces.  Here  are 
essences,    sublime,  imperishable,    and  eternal.      Here,    the 


288  THE  EEDEEMEE  CONTEMPLATING 

recovery  of  a  world  is  entailed ;  and  we  are  summoned  to 
share  the  greatness  of  the  task.  Here  is  an  object  which  has 
made  a  Saviour — which  has  develoj^ed  new  features  in  the 
character  of  the  blessed  God — and  we  are  actually  called  to 
prosecute  His  world-wide  everlasting  design.  Identifying 
ourselves  with  this  object,  v/e  enter  into  fellowshij)  with  all 
the  real  greatness  the  world  has  ever  known.  We  are 
encomj^assed  by  a  great  cloud  of  witnesses.  We  pass  to  our 
work  throuf^-h  their  bendinoj  ranks.  Are  we  aware  that  in 
God's  great  scheme  of  Christian  agency,  a  distinct  post  is 
assigned  us,  and  a  talent  intrusted  to  us  ?  Is  it  possible 
that  any  Christian  j^resent  could  thoughtfully  reflect  that  he 
has  been  converted,  trained,  anointed,  brought  to  this  day  as 
an  agent  for  Christ — that  his  short  hour  of  Christian  activity 
looks  back  to,  and  derives  all  its  meaning  and  value  from  that 
great  hour  of  Christ — and  that  he  is  left  here  for  a  brief 
space  to  let  the  world,  ay,  and  to  let  the  Church  see  his 
estimate  of  that  hour,  of  the  love  which  it  expressed,  of  his 
own  indebtedness  to  it,  of  its  world- embracing  compassion; 
can  any  one  present,  I  say,  believe  this,  without  feeling  that 
all  his  powers  are  due — his  whole  nature  put  in  requisition  ? 
And  yet  this  deep  consecrating  sense,  with  here  and  there  an 
exception,  is  the  very  element  in  which  we  are  wanting. 

How  consecrating  the  thought!  You  are  summoned  to 
pervade  an  indefinite  circle  with  the  influence  that  saves. 
How  ennobling  the  inspiration!  You  can  stamp  your 
Christian  impress  on  the  imperishable  interests  of  your  race. 
You  have  been  set  down  by  the  hand  of  God  in  the  midst  of 
the  myriads  of  immortal  men  now  teeming  around  you, 
expressly  that  you  may  so  affect  them.  Rise,  then,  to  the 
height  of  your  calling.  Your  allies  are  great.  You  move  in 
a  line  with  law,  prophecy,  and  the  great  purposes  of  God. 
There  is  nothing  great  which  will  not  helj),  and  bless,  and 
join  you.  Your  friends  are  exultations,  prayers,  agonies. 
Your  scene  of  labour  is  a  Calvary.  He,  your  Lord,  has 
purchased  it.     His  hloocl  is  on  it — His  blood,  the  true  seed 


HIS  HOUR  AS  COIME.  289 

of  the  Cliiirch.  His  cross  lias  stood  on  it.  His  lieart  is 
bound  uj)  vvath  it.  ''For  this  cause  came  He  to  that 
wondrous  hour''  to  which  you  owe  your  hope  of  heaven, 
that  you  might  have  your  hour  of  deep  consecration  to  His 
service. 

5.  The  subject  reminds  us,  further,  that  on  our  discharge 
of  impending  responsibilities  may  be  suspended  consequences 
of  unknown  magnitude.  As  I  cannot  be  supposed  to  bring 
any  duty  of  ours  into  comparison  with  the  work  of  Christ, 
neither  can  I  be  supposed  to  mean  that  God  h  necessarily 
dependent  on  any  agency  of  ours.  Let  the  Church  decline 
its  work,  and  "I  say  unto  you,  that  God  is  able  of  these 
stones  to  raise  up  "  willing  servants.  Eather  than  that  His 
designs  of  grace  shall  fail,  all  nature  should  be  set  in  motion 
— every  spring  of  Providence  be  touched — new  forces  start 
into  activity. 

But  I  speak  of  the  fact,  that  God  has  been  pleased  to 
make  the  Christian  Church  the  medium  of  His  grace  to  the 
world ;  and  of  the  laiu,  that  as  is  our  agency,  so  is  our  useful- 
ness. How  much,  then,  may  depend,  I  repeat,  on  the  way  in 
which  we  meet  impending  responsibilities?  Look  over  the 
wide  scene  of  present  missionary  labour — on  the  character  of 
our  Christian  zeal  at  home  may  depend  the  measure  of  our 
success  abroad.  The  influence  we  are  now  j^i-itting  into 
circulation  will  not  stay  at  home — will  not  even  die  with  us. 
It  is  our  legacy  to  posterity — it  will  reach  to  those  we  never 
saw,  and  descend  to  other  times.  Yes ;  traces  of  our  character 
will  appear  ages  hence — in  the  churches  of  India  and  Africa, 
China  and  Japan.  We  are  giving  Christianity  to  posterity; 
what  kind  of  a  Christianity  shall  it  be — a  languid,  feeble, 
spiritless  thing,  or  a  life  and  a  power? 

Look,  again,  at  the  vast  field  awaiting  our  cultivation — at 
its  moral  wastes,  and  sands,  and  swamps,  and  jungles,  and 
dreary  wilds.  Mourn  not  for  the  ground.  Wail  not  for  the 
land.  It  is  of  mind  we  speak.  The  desolation  is  of  the 
sjmHt.    The  bhghted  regions  are  of  immortal  souls.    Oh,  the 

T 


290  THE  REDEEMER  CONTEMPLATING 

swarming  tracts,  the  depths  of  continents,  never  fanned  by  a 
breath  from  heaven !  "  They  are  destroyed  from  morning  to 
evening ;  they  perish  for  ever  without  any  regarding  it/'  Who 
is  not  tempted  to  cry  out  at  the  sight,  "  0  Thou,  with  whom 
is  the  power,  arrest  their  increase !  Stay  the  multijob* cation 
of  human  life !  Forbid  the  onward  flow  of  existence !  It 
were  better  for  these  myriad  myriads  had  they  never  been 
born!""  But  no;  the  prayer  suited  to  the  occasion  is  j^re- 
pared.  "Drop  down,  ye  heavens,  from  above,  and  let  the 
sides  pour  "down  righteousness;  let  the  earth  open,  and  let 
them  bring  forth  salvation ;  and  let  righteousness  spring  forth 
together/'  But  so  large-hearted  a  prayer  requires  the  use  of 
means  correspondingly  large;  and  on  the  character  of  our 
Christian  zeal  it  may  depend,  under  God,  whether  the  prayer 
shall  be  answered  in  our  day,  or  be  deferred  for  ages.  For 
this  cause  have  we  come  to  this  hour — come  to  it  with  all 
our  ripened  missionary  experience — all  our  knowledge  of  the 
world's  crying  wants — all  our  providential  resources — and 
with  our  deep  avowed  conviction  that  there  is  nothing  in 
God  to  prevent  nation  after  nation  being  born  in  a  day — that, 
in  a  sense,  He  is  waiting  for  us,  urging  us,  upbraiding  us 
with  delay. 

Or  look,  again — look  back  to  that  wondrous  hour  which  is 
for  us  both  redemption  and  example.  But  for  that  hour, 
Vv^hat  should  we  have  known  of  the  infinite  love  of  God  ? 
The  great  ocean  would — must  have  remained  for  ever  shut 
up  and  concealed.  That  hour  was  its  only  adequate  outlet 
and  channel.  So  much  of  God,  if  I  may  so  say,  was  com- 
j)ressed  into  that  hour,  that  to  express  and  represent  it  to 
the  world  required  the  consecration  of  myriads  of  human 
hearts  and  lives  for  ages  and  generations.  Are  tve  represent- 
ing or  misrepresenting  it  ?  Every  great  principle  seeks  to 
become  a  power,  and  to  organize  for  itself  the  means  of  its 
manifestation  and  diffusion.  The  principle  of  that  hour 
organized  a  Church — called  for  a  great  society  of  human 
hearts — demanded  ten  thousand  such  channels  to  flow  throuoh 


HIS  HOUE  AS  COME.  291 

— could  not  cliscliarge  its  fulness  tlirougli  less.  Are  we  ob- 
structing its  onward  flow,  or  living  witli  our  hearts  wide  open 
to  the  current?  Times  have  been,  in  the  history  of  the 
Church,  when  that  hour  was  actually  ignored — forgotten; 
when  the  whole  redemptive  work  was  as  much  lost  sight  of 
as  if  it  had  been  a  mere  vision  taken  up  again  into  heaven. 
But  we  profess  to  date  everything  from  it — to  owe  everything 
to  it.  We  profess  that  for  tliis  cause  have  we  come  to  that 
hour — to  the  knowledge  and  the  redeeming  power  of  it — 
that  we  might  bring  others  to  it  also.  But  if  the  world  is 
to  form  its  judgment  of  that  hour  from  us— from  our  con- 
duct— will  their  judgment  of  it  be  correct  ?  AYe  may  not 
be  deluding  them  with  the  pretended  wood  of  the  true  cross; 
but  may  we  not  be  fatally  deceiving  them  as  to  its  all- 
sacrificing  spirit?  Earnestness  is  the  world's  piety;  and 
they  yield  themselves  up  to  its  power.  That  liour  was  the 
hour  of  God's  earnestness;  that  horn'  saw  Divine  earnestness 
rising  to  zeal — the  zeal  of  the  Lord  of  hosts — self-commun- 
ing zeal.  "  Because  he  could  swear  by  no  greater,  He  sware 
by  Himself,"  and  that  hour  saw  Him  redeeming  His  oath. 
The  time  for  mere  words,  even  for  solemn  oath- words,  had 
passed.  That  hour  was  one  great  acted  oath — taking  the 
outward  form  of  a  cross,  and  the  inward  form  of  a  Divine 
self-sacrifice — an  oath-c?eecZ,  which  said,  "  As  I  live,  saith  the 
Lord;  as  /  die,  saith  the  Lord,  I  will  not  the  death  of  the 
sinner "" — an  oath  which  was  meant  to  go  vibrating  and 
reverberatinoj  throus^h  the  Church  and  the  world  for  ever. 
Are  we  translating  and  repeating  that  oath  in  our  conduct  ? 
Would  the  world  guess,  looking  at  us,  that  such  an  hour 
had  ever  existed  on  earth,  or  that  we  had  any  knowledge 
of  it? 

6.  Let  me  recapitulate.  Having  contemplated  the  great 
hour  which  saw  the  culmination  of  our  Lord's  mediatorial 
work  on  earth,  we  next  proceeded  to  shew,  first,  that  it  is 
underlaid  by  a  moral  principle  of  universal  a23i:)lication — 
which  we  viewed,  however,   in  its   Christian  aspect — that 


292  THE  EEDEEMEE  CONTEMPLATIXG 

there  is  a  period  in  the  life  of  every  Christian,  and  of  every 
Christian  commnnity,  for  which  every  previons  hour  is  a 
designed  means  of  j)reparation — that  snch  seasons  of  special 
service  and  sacrifice  liave  actually  occurred  in  the  history  of 
the  Church — that  such  times  should  be  expected,  prepared 
for,  and  ascertained — that  the  dne  apprehension  of  them 
would  invest  ns  with  a  consecrating  sense  of  responsibility — • 
and  that  on  our  discharge  of  such  responsibilities  may  be 
suspended  consequences  of  the  greatest  magnitude.  Brethren, 
it  was  the  conviction  that  such  an  hour  of  responsibility  had 
arrived  that  led  to  our  modern  home  missionary  movements. 
And  I  might,  therefore,  inquire  next,  Whether  the  urgency 
of  that  hour  is  not  now  greater  than  ever?  The  Church  had 
been  living  and  banqueting,  l)r  sleeping,  within  closed  doors. 
It  woke  up  to  find  that  a  world  was  collected  on  the  outside, 
famishing  for  the  bread  of  life.  But  though  it  threw  open 
its  doors,  and  rushed  out  with  what  was  at  hand,  the  famish- 
ing multitude  is  greater  now  than  it  was  at  first.  And  what 
is  more,  the  urgency  of  the  hour  has  grown  greater,  both 
from  Church  reasons,  and  reasons  arising  from  the  sceptical 
tendency  of  our  home  population.  Not  only  will  not  the 
same  degree  of  Christian  zeal  meet  the  increasing  wants  of 
the  world,  it  will  not  suffice  for  the  spiritual  health  of  the 
Church,  nor  will  it  silence  the  suspicions  of  the  sceptic  as  a 
Divine  reality.  Of  the  very  same  sceptical  class  in  apostolic 
times,  we  are  told  again  and  again,  that  "  fear  came  upon 
every  soul."'  They  were  truth-smitten,  and  quailed.  The 
amount  of  what  was  done  will  not  account  for  this,  but  the 
unselfish  soul  which  was  thro"\\m  into  it ;  not  so  much  the 
quantity  as  the  quality — not,  how  much  can  I  conveniently 
afibrd?  but,  how  much  can  I  lovingly  sacrifice?  This  is  the 
spirit  before  which  man  bov/s  dovv^n,  and  the  spirit  which 
God  honours,  for  it  honours  Him.  It  is  His  own  sj^irit, 
and  therefore  the  only  spirit  which  represents  Him.  And 
this  is  the  spirit  called  for  by  the  hour. 

But,  finally,  let  me  add  and  urge  the  high  motive  to  be 


HIS  HOUR  AS  COME.  293 

found  in  our  Lord's  prayer,  "Father,  glorify  thy  name/' 
Observe,  He  did  not  ask  the  Father  to  give,  but  to  take — to 
accept.  "He  laid  down  His  life  of  Himself''  Of  Himself 
He  ascended  the  steps  of  the  altar.  Of  Himself  He  ascended 
the  altar,  laid  Himself  prostrate,  and  said,  "  Father,  glorify 
thy  name.'"  Ages  of  exposition  could  not  exhaust  the  mean- 
ing of  that  utterance.     He  himself  went  up  in  the  flame. 

Now,  can  we  in  our  humble  measure  join  Him  in  it?  Is 
our  eye  fixed  on  the  same  high  end — the  glory  of  God?  I' 
know  full  well  that  our  benevolent  and  religious  societies  are 
doing  much,  compared  v/ith  doing  nothing  ;  I  know  that 
they  can  move  and  act  only  as  they  are  sustained  by  the 
Christian  comnKinities  to  which  they  belong  ;  and  I  know 
that  the  objects  and  claims  v/hich  divide  the  attention  and 
resources  of  these  communities  are  much  more  numerous 
than  they  were.  But  I  know,  also,  that  hov/ever  mucli  we 
may  be  doing  according  to  the  standard  of  mere  custom,  mere 
convenience,  or  any  mere  human  standard,  we  may  be  doing 
next  to  nothing  when  measured  by  the  only  Christian  stan- 
dard— Christ.  Our  very  activity  may  but  serve  to  conceal 
from  us  our  want  of  zeal.  Our  very  contributions  may  be 
mere  substitutes  for  giving — may  be  one  form  of  with- 
holding. Even  our  prayers,  instead  of  deepening  our  sense 
of  dependence,  may  for  the  time  exliaust  it.  Brethren,  \vq 
need  to  be  perpetually  recurring  to  first  principles.  Instead 
of  measuring  ourselves  by  ourselves,  we  need  often  repair  to 
the  standard  measure — the  Cross.  And  instead  of  looking 
chiefly  to  inferior  ends,  we  need  to  be  reminded  that  there  is 
an  end  which  subordinates  every  other,  and  to  raise  our  eye 
to  the  height  of  that  end — iha  glory  of  God. 

Yes,  here  is  our  test.  If  what  we  have  given,  prayed,  and 
done,  could  be  added  together  and  made  visible,  should  we 
be  content  to  have  it  regarded  as  representing  our  estimate 
of  the  worth  of  souls,  of  our  obligation  to  Christ,  or  of  the 
glory  of  God?  I  do  not  ask  what  we  might  be  ready  to  do 
in   other  circumstances,   and  with   impossible  wealth  and 


29 4i  THE  REDEEMER  CONTEMPLATING 

means.  But,  witli  our  present  resources — as  individuals, 
cliurchef:!,  denominations — supposing  tliat  all  we  have  felt 
and  done  in  the  great  cause  of  the  world's  recovery  could  be 
summed  up  and  made  visible,  would  it  adequately  represent 
the  value  we  attach  id  the  glory  of  God?  Is  it  such  that 
it  would  bring  glory  to  God  ?  Have  we  ever  made  a  sacrifice 
for  Him?  Or  could  we,  if  required,  take  all  that  we  could 
justly  spare  from  our  domestic  and  other  claims,  and,  placing 
the  whole  before  Him,  say  from  the  heart,  "  Father,  glorify 
thy  name''?  This  is  precisely  vA\at  He  does  require.  And 
here  is  our  motive.  This  is  the  only  style  of  Christian  service 
that  brings  Him  glory.  Inferior  motives  will  account  for 
inferior  service;  but  the  man  who  thus  acts  has  been  looking 
at  the  glory  of  God — lookmg  at  that  object  which  turned  the 
Saviour  himself  into  a  sacrifice. 

Tell  me  not  that  I  ask  for  too  high  a  scale  of  Christian 
service.  It  is  the  only  scale  which  Christianity  o^vns.  Every 
other  it  denounces  and  disowns.  Every  other  has  the  old 
world-stamp  of  convenience  and  self-indulgence  on  it.  Only 
this  is  entitled  to  say,  "Father,  glorify  thy  name.''  Deem 
not  the  standard  impracticable.  Others  have  reached  it — 
have  found  liberty,  life,  blessedness  in  it.  And  as  they  have 
gone  on  raising  their  scale  of  service,  they  have  gone  on  sa.ymg 
with  a  freer  heart,  and  in  a  more  exulting  strain,  "  Father, 
glorify  thy  name."  Deem  it  not  more  than  the  occasion 
calls  for.  What,  when  every  other  religion  impugns  His 
name — when  the  whole  of  heathendom  foully  misrepresents 
His  character,  or  rather  ignores  His  very  existence — when 
the  whole  sinful  world  is  leagued  and  banded  together  to 
blot  out  His  glory — can  you  do  less  than  put  all  your 
resources  at  His  service,  and  say,  "Father,  glorify  thy  name"? 
Too  high  a  standard!  Why  do  you  forget  what  men  will 
do— are  doing,  at  this  moment,  to  avenge  their  country's 
quarrel,  and  to  glorify  their  own  name?  But  here  is  a  cause 
for  which  all  creation  is  groaning  and  travailing  in  pain 
together  until  now — for  which  Christ  himself  came  to  His 


HIS  HOUR  AS  COME.  205 

great  mysterious  hour — and  for  wliicli  He  lias  brouglit  all 
His  Christian  hosts  to  this  hour;  and  shall  they  have  no 
page  in  the  book  of  the  wars  of  the  Lord?  "Father, 
glorify  thy  name."  Too  high  a  style  of  service!  What, 
when  it  is  to  issue  in  nothing  less  than  the  restoration  of  a 
world,  and  sucJi  a  world,  to  God!  Why,  the  very  prospect 
has  already  filled  all  heaven  with  ecstasy.  There  His  glory 
has  never  been  obscured — here  it  has  suffered  a  lone:  ami  a 
disastrous  eclipse ;  when,  therefore,  it  shall  again  burst  fortli 
with  unclouded  splendour,  well  may  the  blessed,  with 
unwonted  emphasis,  exclaim,  "  Even  earth — the  Avhole  earth 
— is  full  of  His  glory — the  kingdoms  of  this  world  have 
become  the  kingdoms  of  our  God  and  of  His  Christ;"  and 
well  may  we,  in  prospect  of  that  hour,  exclaim,  "  Father, 
glorify  thy  name."  Tell  me  not,  then,  of  what  you  are  doing 
— I  only  tell  you  of  what  Christ  is  requiring.  And  I  ask 
you — by  that  great  hour  in  the  past  to  which  you  owe  your 
redemption,  and  by  that  sublime  hour  in  the  future  when 
your  Lord  shall  come  again — regard  this  as  your  hour — the 
season  to  which  you  have  been  brought,  and  for  which  you 
have  been  divinely  prepared  as  a  living  sacrifice — and  say, 
practically,  by  your  gifts,  your  prayers,  your  self-consecra- 
tion, '•  Father,  glorify  thy  name." 


296  cheist's  consecration  of 


SERMON  XIII. 

cheist's  conseceation  of  his  disciples  to  theie  woek. 

John  xvii.  18,  19 — "  As  thou  hast  sent  me  into  the  -world,  even  so  have  I 
also  sent  them  into  the  worlcT.  And  for  their  sakes  I  sanctify  myself, 
that  they  also  might  be  sanctified  through  the  truth." 

You  hardly  need  be  reminded  that  tlie  Bible  contemj^lates 
two  kinds  of  sanctification :  tlie  one,  in  the  Hebrew  sense  of 
separation,  or  setting  apart  to  a  holy  use — the  other,  in  the 
evangelical  sense  of  being  made  holy;  the  former  referring 
to  both  persons  and  things — the  latter  to  persons  only;  the 
former  to  office — the  latter  to  character.  Now,  it  is  evident 
when  the  Saviour  here  s^oeaks  of  having  sanctified  Himself, 
He,  as  a  being  originally,  personally,  and  perfectly  holy, 
could  only  employ  the  word  in  the  former  signification,  as 
denoting  the  fact  that  He  had  separated  or  devoted  Himself 
to  a  holy  office.  But  it  is  a  question  with  sacred  expositors 
whether,  when  He  prays  in  the  same  verse  that  His  disciples 
might  be  sanctified,  he  does  not  employ  the  word  in  the 
latter  sense,  namely,  that  they  might  be  jji^^z/iecZ  and  made 
personally  holy — especially,  too,  as  He  prays  that  they  might 
be  sanctified  through,  or  in  the  truth — for  the  truth,  we 
know,  is  the  great  instrument  of  personal  sanctification. 

Now,  it  appears  to  me  that  the  term,  as  here  applied  to 
the  apostles,  includes  both  senses;  that  the  Saviour  prayed 
that  they  might  be  sanctified  in  the  one  sense,  in  order  that 
they  might  be  fit  to  be  sanctified  in  the  other — that  "  the 
truth,'"  accompanied  by  a  Divine  power,  might  so  influence 


HIS  DISCIPLES  TO  THEIE  WOEK.  297 

and  sanctify  them  j9e7'so?2fi%,  that  they  might  be  prepared 
to  be  sej^arated  or  sanctified  officialbj. 

And  "the  trnth/'  or  that  part  of  "the  truth,"  which 
He  expected  to  be  chiefly  employed  by  the  Holy  Sj^irit  for 
this  purpose,  is  evidently  that  which  relates  to  the  glorious 
fact  of  His  ovs^i  official  sanctification,  or  entire  consecration 
to  the  work  of  our  redemption.  Hence  He  represents  His 
consecration  to  have  taken  place  expressly  with  a  view  to 
theirs.  "  Por  their  sakes  I  sanctify  or  devote  myself,  that 
they  also  both  be  j)ersonally  sanctified,  and  then  relatively 
or  officially  consecrated  through  the  truth;''  that,  standing 
under  the  action  of  my  cross,  feeling  the  full  influence  of 
that  mystery  of  comj)assion — beholding  how  I,  Thy  Son,  the 
brightness  of  Thy  glory,  there  devote  and  set  myself  aj^art 
as  a  sacrifice  for  the  manifestation  of  Thine  infinite  love — 
they  may  feel  impelled  to  devote  themselves  with  a  similar 
entireness  of  consecration  to  the  proclamation  of  that  love 
to  the  world. 

And  this  was  the  prayer  of  Christ,  not  for  the  apostles 
only,  "  but  for  them  also,"  He  adds,  "  who  shall  believe  on 
me  through  their  word ;  that  they  all  may  be  one,  that  the 
world  may  believe  that  thou  hast  sent  me.''  Finding  them- 
selves ever  standing  in  the  presence  of  His  wondrous  cross, 
He  prayed  that  they  might  feel  themselves  impelled  to  make 
His  consecration  the  model  and  motive  of  their  own,  that 
God  might  be  glorified  and  man  be  saved. 

Let  us,  then,  in  the  spirit  of  this  great  prayer,  exhibit  cer- 
tain truths  calculated  to  promote  this  Christian  consecration ; 
confining  our  remarks  to  such  truths  only  as  relate  directly 
to 'the  dedication  of  Christ  himself,  or  have  gro^vn  imme- 
diately out  of  it. 

I 

Now,  the  first,  and  that  which  forms  the  root  of  all  the 
rest,  is  the  great  truth,  that  Christ  should  have  sanctified  or 
consecrated  Himself  to  the  work  of  our  redemption. 


298  chpjst's  conseceation  op 

"For  their  sakes,"  said  He,  "  I  sanctify  myself — I  devote 
myself  entirely  to  tlie  work  of  human  redemj^tion.  In  pur- 
suance of  this  voluntary  engagement,  He  withdrew  Himself 
from  the  glories  of  heaven,  and  set  Himself  apart  to  the 
sorrows  of  earth  and  to  the  sufferings  of  a  vicarious  death. 
Though  He  saw,  as  from  a  height,  the  whole  array  of  duty 
and  trial  which  awaited  Him,  the  only  emotion  He  evinced 
at  the  sight  was  a  holy  impatience  to  reach  the  cross  which 
stood  at  the  end  of  His  .path —  a  self-consuming  ardour  to  be 
baptized  with  that  baptism  of  blood.  Though  all  the  fulness 
and  fire  of  the  passions  dwelt  in  Him,  never  did  He  waste  a 
single  feehng,  but  devoted  the  whole  as  consecrated  fuel  for 
offering  up  the  great  sacrifice  in  which  His  life  was  consumed, 
and  by  which  the  world  might  be  saved. 

And  why  did  He  this  ?  Not  merely  to  impart  a  benevo- 
lent spirit  to  His  dispensation,  though  this  is  one  of  its 
sublime  results,  but  because  He  had  undertaken  to  embody 
before  the  eyes  of  the  universe  the  glory  of  the  Divine  bene- 
volence in  the  salvation  of  man.  Charged  with  this  exalted 
ofiice.  He  came  forth  and  stood  before  the  world  as  the  visible 
representative  of  the  invisible  God.  "He  that  hath  seen 
me,''  said  He,  "  hath  seen  the  Father  also.'"  "  Henceforth 
ye  know  the  Father,  and  have  seen  him.''  "  I  and  my 
Father  are  one."  Possessed  with  the  infinite  magnitude  of 
the  task  He  had  undertaken,  nothing  could  for  a  moment 
divert  His  eye  from  it ;  every  action  and  item  of  His  life 
was  referable  to  this,  and  subsidiary  to  it.  As  far  as  con- 
sistent v/ith  the  laws  of  mediation,  He  was  content  to  con- 
ceal Himself,  to  merge  His  own  claims,  that  He  might  occupy 
the  whole  of  our  field  of  vision  with  the  love  of  God.  He 
impressed  on  us  the  sublime  fact  that  the  Father  loves  us,  not 
in  consequence  of  the  great  propitiation,  but  that  He  pro- 
vided the  propitiation  because  "he  so  loved  us,"  because 
He  was  bent  on  obtaining  a  medium  through  which  He  could 
pour  out  the  ocean-fulness  of  His  love  upon  us.  He  goes 
even  beyond  this — "  Therefore  doth  my  Father  love  me," 


HIS  DISCIPLES  TO  THEIR  WORK.  299 

saith  He,  "because  I  lay  down  my  life  for  tlie  sheep;''  in 
other  words,  "My  Father  loves  you  with  a  love  so  unbounded, 
that  He  even  loves  me  the  more  for  dying  to  redeem  you. 
He  so  loves  you,  that  whatever  facilitates  the  expression  of 
His  love  receives  an  expression  of  His  Divine  esteem.  By 
sustaining  your  liabilities,  by  surrendering  my  life  as  an 
equivalent  for  your  transgression,  and  thus  vindicating  His 
law  from  all  aj^j^earance  of  connivance  at  sin,  I  am  setting 
His  compassion  at  liberty ; .  I  am  removiug  a  restraint  from 
His  love,  wdiich  threatened  to  hold  it  in  eternal  suspense ;  I 
am  enabling  His  grace  to  act,  to  save  whom  it  will;  and  for 
thus  concurring  in  His  benevolent  purpose,  and  opening  an 
ample  channel  for  the  tide  of  His  love  to  flow  in,  the  Father 
loves  me.  Though  I  was  ineffably  beloved  from  eternity.  He 
may  now  be  said  to  have  added  infinite  delight  to  infinite.'' 
Thus  unreservedly  did  the  Saviour  lay  Himself  out,  even  to 
the  death,  to  enlarge  our  conceptions  of  the  grace  of  God. 

And  how  could  it  be  otherwise?  Eeposing  as  He  had 
from  eternity  on  the  bosom  of  that  infinite  love  which  He 
had  come  to  earth  to  represent,  knowing  as  He  did  its 
infinite  treasures,  He  knew  that  no  representation  He  could 
make  could  adequately  im23ress  us  with  its  vastness ;  how, 
then,  could  He  be  satisfied  with  doing  less  than  the  utter- 
most which  humanity,  sustained  by  Divinity,  could  effect 
in  order  to  express  it?  A  love  whose  sacrifices  might  be 
numbered  and  measured  could  not  adequately  express  a  love 
which  passeth  knowledge;  therefore  it  was  that  He  with- 
held nothing,  but  "  gave  Himself"  for  us.  Less  than  the  deep 
''travail  of  His  soul"  could  not  have  rei^resented  the  pulsa- 
tions and  throes  of  infinite  compassion ;  therefore  it  was  that, 
being  in  an  agony,  He  sweat  as  it  were  great  drops  of  blood 
falling  to  the  ground — that  He  endured  the  cross,  despising 
the  shame.  True  it  is  that,  knowing  as  we  do  "  the  grace  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,"  well  may  we  be  filled  with  astonish- 
ment at  its  amazing  riches;  but  equally  true  is  it  that, 
knowing  as  He  did  the  infinite  extent  of  that  love  of  God 


SOO  cheist's  coxseceation  of 

wliicli  He  had  engaged  to  represent,  He  felt  that  nothing  less 
than  such  a  display  of  grace  could  sufficiently  express  it — 
felt  that  nothing  He  might  say  or  suffer  could  possibly 
exaggerate  our  conception  of  the  grace  of  God. 

Now,  be  it  remembered  that  having  thus  embodied  the 
love  of  the  Father,  He  has  devolved  on  His  people  to  multij^ly 
the  copies  oi  His  character  in  their  own  lives.  "  As  Thou  hast 
made  me  Thy  messenger  to  the  world,  I  have  made  them  my 
messengers  to  the  world.''  They  have  now  to  do  instrumentalhj 
for  Christ  what  He  did  efficaciously  and  really  for  the  Father 
— to  represent  His  benevolence  to  the  world.  In  making  them 
partakers  of  His  grace.  He  not  only  intends  their  own  salva- 
tion, He  intends  the  salvation  of  others  by  their  instrumenta- 
lity; He  intends  that  they  should  go  forth  from  His  presence 
as  messengers,  conveying  to  the  world  the  cheering  intelli- 
gence that  He  is  still  sitting  on  His  throne  of  mercy  waiting 
to  be  gracious,  and  that  they  should  spare  no  effort  or  sacrifice 
which  may  be  necessary  in  order  to  proclaim  the  fact  univer- 
sally. He  says  to  them,  in  effect,  "  You  have  given  yourselves 
to  me,  and  I  give  you  to  the  world — give  you  as  my  repre- 
sentatives. Look  on  yourselves  as  dedicated  to  this  office,  as 
I,  in  a  higher  sense,  was  appointed  to  represent  the  gracious 
character  of  God." 

Hence,  partly,  the  mighty  obligation  they  are  under  to  task 
their  utmost  powers  for  the  diffusion  of  His  Gospel.  For  if 
it  was  necessary  that  He  should  turn  all  His  infinite  nature 
into  grace  in  order  to  do  justice  to  the  love  of  God,  is  it  less 
necessary  that  their  natures  should  be  turned  into  tenderness 
and  love  in  order  to  furnish  the  world  with  an  idea  of  His 
grace  ?  Are  our  persons  so  capacious,  our  natures  so  exalted, 
that  less  than  the  consecration  of  the  whole  should  be  able  to 
convey  an  idea  of  His  grace  ?  So  vast  were  His  conceptions 
of  the  love  of  God,  that  He  attempted  not  to  describe  it — He 
contented  Himself  with  saying  that  "  God  so  loved  us,"  and 
aimed  rather  to  express  its  indescribable  amount  in  Godlike 
deeds.     And  did  He  fall  so  fixr  short  of  the  great  reality— was 


HIS  DISCIPLES  TO  THEIR  WORK.  801 

His  representation  of  the  love  of  God  so  scant  and  meagre, 
that  we  can  imitate  it  without  sacrifice  or  effort  ?  It  is  true 
His  example  can  never  be  equalled,  for  it  embodies  infinite 
goocbiess ;  but  with  so  much  the  greater  force  does  it  oblige 
us,  in  our  humble  measure,  to  attempt  the  imitation.  Having 
died  for  the  good  of  man,  the  least  He  is  entitled  to  expect  is, 
that  we  should  live  for  the  same  benevolent  object.  To  save 
the  world  was  His  vocation — His  supreme  and  single  object — 
so  that  never  do  we  so  much  resemble  Him  as  when  we  make 
it  our  business  and  calling  to  carry  out  His  gracious  design. 
Yes;  as  far  as  religion  is  practical  and  relative  to  others,  He 
has  made  benevolence  its  life  and  essence — not  merely  a 
part  of  the  Christian  character,  but  the  character  itself. 

11. 

When  the  Saviour  prayed  that  His  followers  might  be 
entirely  consecrated  to  the  work  of  diffusing  the  Gospel 
through  the  truth,  we  may  suppose,  secondly,  that  He  contem- 
plated the  great  truth  or  fact  that  the  Hohj  Spirit  himself  is 
devoted  to  the  same  object 

Would  you  know  w^hat  the  design  of  the  Spirit  is  in  coming 
into  the  world  ?  Hov/  remarkable  and  emphatic  the  language 
of  Christ  in  reply?  "He shall  not  speak  of  Himself."  "  He 
shall  testify  of  me.'"  "  He  shall  glorify  me."  As  the  Saviour 
came  to  glorify  the  Father  by  the  demonstration  of  His  infinite 
love,  so  the  Spirit  came  to  glorify  Christ  by  exhibiting  and 
carrying  that  demonstration  home,  through  the  Church,  to 
the  heart  of  the  world.  But  what  must  be  the  Spirit's  esti- 
mate of  the  work  of  Christ,  that  He  should  thus,  in  a  sense, 
be  content  to  be  silent  concerning  Himself,  in  order  that  the 
world  might  resound  with  nothing  but  the  claims  of  Christ — 
to  conceal  His  own.  splendours,  that  the  eye  of  the  world 
might  rest  undistm-bed  on  Christ  alone !  And  who  can  com- 
pute the  enormous  guilt  of  those  by  whose  instrumentality 
His  infinite  propensions  to  exhibit  the  glory  of  Christ  might 
be  carried  into  effect,  but  who  give  that  instrumentality  to 


302  cheist's  conseceation  of 

other  objects,  and  thus  unutterably  "grieve  the  Holy  Spirit 
of  God!" 

Possibly,  however,  the  promise  of  the  Spirit  to  convert  the 
vv^orld,  it  may  be  said,  was  not  meant  for  all  time,  but  only, 
or  chiefly,  for  the  first  ages  of  the  Church.  So  far  from 
this,  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Sj^irit  is  the  great  promise  of  the 
Christian  dispensation,  "Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive/'  The 
law  of  the  dispensation  on  the  subject  is  this,  "  Every  one 
that  asketh,  receiveth" — a  law  which  establishes  the  certain 
and  permanent  connexion  between  asking  for  the  influence 
of  the  Spirit  and  obtaining  it.  While  the  sacred  Scriptures, 
p)ublic  Avorship,  a  standing  ministry,  all  the  means  of 
grace — what  are  these  but  the  great  ordinances  of  the  dis- 
2)ensation,  appointed  as  so  many  channels  to  receive  the 
living  waters  of  prophetic  vision,  and  to  convey  them  into  all 
the  world  ?  And  the  great  unfulfilled  prophecy  of  tlie  dis- 
pensation is,  "  I  will  pour  out  my  Spirit  upon  all  flesh/' 
Till  this  prediction  is  fulfilled,  and  the  world  convinced  of 
sin,  the  promise  of  the  Spirit  to  accomplish  this  work  may  ])e 
regarded  as  repeated  to  every  believer  through  every  hour  of 
time. 

Now,  as  the  fitness  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  be  the  agent  of 
Christ  consists  in  His  due  apj^reciation  of  the  claims  of 
Christ,  and  in  His  joerfect  sympathy  with  the  design  of 
Christ  to  save  the  Vv^orld ;  so  the  fitness  of  the  Church,  as  the 
instrmnent  of  the  Spirit,  can  only  consist  in  its  sympathy 
witli  the  Spirit  in  converting  the  world  and  glorifying  Christ. 
Did  Christ  travail  in  soul  for  the  redemption  of  the  v/orld? 
Then  the  fitness  of  the  Spirit  as  His  representative  consists 
in  an  infinite  travail  of  compassion  for  the  aiDplication  of  that 
redemption;  and  never  till  "Zion  travails''  for  the  same 
object  can  she  expect  to  "bring  forth."  Did  Christ  devote  the 
entire  fulness  of  His  nature  to  the  salvation  of  man  ?  Then 
the  fitness  of  the  Spirit  to  be  the  steward  of  all  that  fulness 
of  grace  consists  in  His  readiness  to  administer  the  whole  to 
the  perishing  race;  and  never  till  the  Church  is  in  readiness, 


HIS  DISCIPLES  TO  THEIR  WOEK.  303 

by  entire  devotedness,  to  convey  it  into  all  the  world,  is  it 
prepared  to  do  justice  to  the  office  and  agency  of  the  Holy 
Spuit.  Did  Christ  appoint  the  Christian  ministry  and  the 
various  means  of  grace  as  the  channels  for  conveying  His 
Gospel  to  every  creature?  Then  the  suitableness  of  the  Spirit 
to  carry  out  this  intention  must  consist  in  His  readiness  to 
replenish  those  channels  with  heavenly  influences,  till  the 
earth  be  filled  with  the  glory  of  the  Lord ;  and  never  till  the 
Church  has  mi^ltiplied  these  channels  sufficiently  to  realize 
this  grand  consummation  will  it  adequately  sympathize  with 
the  office  of  the  Spirit,  or  satisfy  His  infinite  desire  for  the 
glory  of  Christ.  Hence  the  importance  of  each  believer 
individually,  and  of  the  Church  collectively,  being  "filled 
with  the  Spirit/'  So  lofty  is  His  estimate  of  the  claims  of 
Christ,  and  so  perfect  His  sympathy  with  Him  in  the  great 
object  of  the  world's  recovery,  that  He  requires  every  member, 
agency,  and  influence  of  the  entire  Church  to  unite  to  the 
utmost  in  enforcing  those  claims  and  realizing  that  recovery. 
The  absence  of  a  sinde  means  which  might  have  been 
employed  is  not  only  to  rob  the  world  of  that  promised 
influence  of  the  Spirit  which  might  have  accompanied  its 
presence,  it  is  to  proclaim  to  the  unthmldng  world  that  He 
is  not  entirely  devoted  to  the  glory  of  Christ,  and  thus  to  cast 
a  shade  of  grievous  dishonour  on  the  dispensation  of  the 
Spirit. 

III. 

But  if  this  view  of  the  duty  of  entire  consecration  to  the 
service  of  Christ  be  "scriptural,  we  may  expect  to  find  that  it 
is  not  left  to  be  inferred  from  other  doctrines  merely,  but 
that  it  stands  out  on  the  sacred  page  with  all  the  distinct- 
ness and  boldness  of  a  direct  command.  This  is  the  third 
truth,  or  the  third  class  of  truths,  to  which  we  would 
call  your  attention  —  the  exhortations  and  commands  of 
Scripture.  We  are  exhorted  to  yield  ourselves  unto  God. 
We  are  entreated  by  the  mercies  of  God  to  present  ourselves 


80i  CHRIST'S  CONSECEATION  OP 

as  Ihing  sacrifices.  "We  are  admonislied  that  if  \ve  are 
Christians  in  reality,  we  are  henceforth  to  live,  not  nnto 
ourselves,  but  to  Him  that  died  for  us  and  rose  again.  Nay, 
we  are  reminded  that  we  are  no  longer  our  own — that  we 
are  bought  with  a  price — and  that  we  are  bound  to  glorify 
God  in  our  body  and  in  our  spirit,  which  are  His.  Thus, 
not  only  is  the  consecration  of  Christ  presented  as  the  model 
of  ours  ;  it  is  enforced  as  the  motive  and  reason  of  it.  "  For 
their  sakes/'  said  He,  "I  sanctify  myself;''  they  are  lost,  and 
I  do  it  for  the  sake  of  their  redemption ;  and  now  for  His 
sake  we  are  are  to  sanctify  and  devote  ourselves.  Yes, 
brethren,  we  are  lost — lost  to  ourselves,  to  heaven,  and  to 
God — lost  as  truly  as  if  the  hand  of  justice  had  seized  us, 
led  us  down  to  our  place  in  hell,  drawn  on  us  the  bolts  of 
the  dreadful  prison,  and  as  if  years  of  wretchedness  and  ages 
of  darkness  had  rolled  over  thus  there.  Well  may  we  ask 
ourselves  again  and  again,  How  is  it  we  are  here — here,  in 
the  blessed  light  of  day — here,  in  the  still  more  blessed  light 
of  God's  countenance — here,  in  His  house,  like  children 
sitting  in  their  father's  smiles?  Why  is  this?  and  how  has 
it  come  to  pass?  Has  justice  relaxed  its  demands — or  have 
the  penal  flames  become  extinct?  What !  know  ye  not  that 
ye  are  bought  with  a  price?  It  is  the  theme  of  the  universe. 
Look  on  that  glorious  being  descending  from  heaven  in  the 
form  of  God.  Know  ye  not  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  that  He  sought  no  resting-place  between  His  throne 
and  the  cross?  Behold  that  cross.  Know  ye  not  that  He 
loved  us,  and  gave  Himself  for  us — that  He  bare  our  sins  in 
His  o^vn  body  upon  the  tree?  Approach  nearer,  and  look  on 
that  streaming  blood.  Know  ye  not  "  the  precious  blood  of 
Christ,''  and  that  that  blood  is  the  price  of  your  redemp- 
tion? Hear  you  not  the  voice  from  heaven  which  now  says, 
"Deliver  them  from  going  down  into  the  pit,  for  I  have 
found  a  ransom"?  Feel  you  not  the  Spirit  of  God  drawing 
you  with  gentle  solicitations  and  gracious  imjDortunity  to  the 
feet  of  Christ?     See  you  not  that  He  who  died  for  your  sins 


HIS  DISCIPLES  TO  THEIR  ^YOEK.  805 

liatli  been  raised  for  your  justification,  and  is  now  waiting  to 
receive  the  homage  of  your  love? 

"  How  much  owest  thou  unto  thy  Lord?''  Try  to  compute 
it.  He  asks  not  for  a  greater  surrender  than  He  deserves. 
He  asks  only  His  due.  So  that,  if  there  be  any  part  of  your 
nature  which  He  has  not  redeemed,  or  anything  in  your 
possession  for  v/hich  you  are  not  indebted  to  Him,  keep  it 
back,  and  apply  it  to  some  other  purpose.  But  does  not  the 
bare  suggestion  do  violence  to  your  new  nature?  does  not 
every  part  of  that  nature  resent  the  very  idea,  and  find  a 
voice  to  exclaim,  "0  Lord,  I  am  thy  servant,  I  am  thy 
servant,  thou  hast  loosed  my  bonds''?  Accordingly,  the 
Saviour  claims  you  for  Himself  From  the  moment  the 
Christian  feels  the  pov*^er  of  the  Cross,  his  duty  becomes 
definite,  imperative,  one.  It  every  other  member  of  the 
human  family  v/ere  abandoned  to  live  without  control — if 
the  sun  itself  were  abandoned  to  wander  at  random  through 
infinite  space — his  course  would  be  minutely  prescribed. 
As  if  he  were  the  first  man  of  a  new  race— the  Adam  of  a 
second  Paradise — holding  in  trust  the  wellbeing  of  the  world 
— his  every  step  is  divinely  prescribed.  As  if  he  alone  held 
the  great  secret  of  the  Cross,  and  were  consequently  the  most 
important  being  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  his  every  moment 
is  charged  with  an  appointed  duty.  As  if  he  had  "been 
made  alive  from  the  dead;"  yes,  not  merely  as  if  he  had 
been  called  out  of  nothingness  into  existence — not  merely  as 
if  he  had  been  selected  and  sent  down  from  the  ranks  of  the 
blessed  above — but  with  stronger  motives  still — as  if  his 
guilty  soul  had  been  recalled  from  perdition,  where  the 
undying  worm  had  iound  him,  and  the  unquenchable  flame 
had  enwrapped  him,  and  his  dissolved  body  recalled  from 
the  dust  of  death — and  as  if  he  had  "risen  together  with 
Christ,"  had  literally  come  out  of  the  tomb  with  Christ,  and 
had  received  life  and  salvation  together  at  the  mouth  of  the 
sepulchre,  at  the  hand  of  Christ— all  his  new-found  powers 
are  to  be  held  by  him  as  a  precious  trust  for  the  service  of 

V 


306  CHRIST'S  CONSECRATION  OF 

Christ.  As  if  he  had  come  forth  from  the  sepulchre  at  first 
with  life  only — and  as  if  his  reason,  affections,  knowledge, 
speech,  2:)roperty,  had  then  been  returned  to  him  sejoarately 
and  in  succession,  with  a  distinct  intimation  accompanying 
each  that  he  received  it  back  for  Christ;  he  is  to  look  on 
himself  henceforth  as  a  part  of  the  Cross — as  taken  up  in 
the  great  designs  of  Christ — as  bound  up  for  life  and  death 
in  His  j)lans  of  mercy.  His  character  is  to  be  a  reproduction 
of  the  character  of  Christ.  The  disinterestedness  which 
aj)peared  in  Christ  is  to  reappear  in  him.  The  tenderness 
of  Christ,  His  untold  solicitude  for  human  souls,  is  to  live 
over  again  in  his  tones  of  entreaty,  his  wrrestling  prayers 
for  their  salvation.  And  if  tempted  to  lend  but  a  particle 
of  His  influence  to  any  other  claimant  than  Christ,  his  reply 
is  at  hand,  "  I  am  not  my  own,  I  am  Christ's.  He  has  put 
it  out  of  my  power  to  give  Him  more  than  belongs  to  Him, 
for  He  has  purchased  and  challenges  the  whole  through  every 
moment  of  time :  and  out  of  my  will  to  give  Him  less,  for  if 
I  know  any  grief,  it  is  that  my  all  should  so  inadequately 
express  my  sense  of  obligation." 

IV. 

But  if  a  motive  to  Christian  consecration  is  thus  derivable 
from  the  fact  that  Christ  hath  bought  us,  another  motive  is 
derivable  from  the  fact  that  the  Holy  Spirit  has  devoted  us 
to  the  glory  of  Christ.  And  this  is  the  fourth  truth  to  which 
we  would  call  attention.  "  What !  know  ye  not  that  your 
body  is  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost  which  is  in  you,  which 
ye  have  of  God,  and  ye  are  not  your  own  ?"  If  the  Sj)irit  is 
promised  to  glorify  Christ  by  convincing  the  world  of  sin, 
what  is  the  instrumentality  which  He  is  to  employ  for  this 
purpose  but  the  agency  of  those  whom  He  has  already  con- 
verted and  sanctified  ?  By  whose  feet  but  theirs  is  He  to 
carry  the  Gospel  "among  all  nations"?  By  whose  lips  but 
theirs  is  He  to  convince  the  world  of  sin?  By  whose  hands 
but  theirs  is  He  to  wield  that  weapon  of  celestial  truth  which, 


HIS  DISCIPLES  TO  THEIR  WOEK.  807 

because  it  is  the  only  vvTapon  He  em2:)loys,  is  called  the  very 
"  sworcl  of  the  Sjnrit ''  ?  By  whose  lives  but  theirs  is  He  to 
give  the  world  an  idea — a  living  and  embodied  idea — of  the 
holy  and  disinterested  benevolence  of  Christ?  Hence  they 
are  to  be  co-workers  with  God  the  Holy  Si:)irit. 

But  in  order  to  this,  the  consecration  of  the  Christian  must 
resemble  the  consecration  of  the  Spirit — must  have  all  the 
characteristic  devotedness  of  a  temple.  His  fitness  for  being 
emj)loyed  by  the  Spirit  to  represent  and  glorify  Christ,  will, 
of  course,  depend  on  the  moral  state  of  the  world,  and  on  the 
perfection  of  his  contrast  to  it.  If  that  contrast  be  not  very 
apparent,  the  world  cannot  be  expected  to  take  pains  and 
look  after  it.  If  it  be  not  very  considerable,  it  will  in  effect 
be  nothing,  but  will  itself  be  neutralized  and  borne  down  by 
the  counter-mfluences  of  the  world.  If  it  exists  only  in  some 
particulars,  the  world  will  be  quick  to  detect  the  inconsis- 
tency between  those  particulars  and  the  rest  of  his  character; 
and  will  quote  him  against  himself,  and  in  confirmation  of 
itself.  If  he  still  approaches  the  world,  and  places  himself 
in  friendly  contact  with  it,  when  he  ought  not,  for  the  cause 
of  Christ  he  exists  comparatively  in  vain.  Say  what  he 
will  for  the  Gospel,  the  world  will  judge  of  it  by  his  example. 
Eefer  them  as  he  may  to  the  insph^ed  record  itself  his  life 
is  the  Bible  which  they  read — an  epistle  kno^vn  and  read  of 
all. 

His  usefulness,  we  repeat,  will  depend,  under  God,  on  the 
breadth  and  distinctness  of  the  line  of  demarcation  which 
separates  him  from  the  world,  and  on  the  perfection  of  con- 
trast to  the  world  which  he  exhibits. 

"  But,''  asks  the  worldly  professor,  "  may  he  never  relax 
and  be  neutral?  may  he  withdraw  nothing  from  the  cause  of 
Christ  V  What  would  you  specify?  money?  and  spend  it  in 
sin?  Time?  and  give  it  to  sloth?  Passions,  affections?  and 
lavish  them  upon  trifles  ?  For,  remember,  there  is  no  alter- 
native. "  He  that  is  not  with  me,''  saith  Christ,  and  during 
every  moment  in  which  he  is  not  with  me,  "is  against  me." 


808  cheist's  conseceation  of 

Lax  views  on  tliis  subject  are  tlie  origin  of  mucli  of  that 
inferior  piety  by  wliicli  the  Church  is  enfeebled,  and  its  use- 
fuhiess  iin^^aired.  Thousands  of  professing  Christians  seem 
to  proceed  on  the  supposition  that  there  is  a  sense  in  which 
they  are  still  partially  their  own — that  there  are  considerable 
portions  of  time  in  which  they  are  at  perfect  liberty  to  relax 
and  stand  at  ease — that  at  such  times  their  conduct  is  quite 
neutral  in  its  influence — that  anything  short  of  positive 
hostility  against  Christ  is  to  be  put  to  the  account  of  service 
for  Hun.  Now,  were  this  supposition  as  true  as  it  is  false — 
were  it  quite  possible  for  the  Christian  to  withhold  from 
Christ  a  portion  of  his  resources,  without  rendering  by  such 
an  act  the  least  advantage  to  the  foe,  it  v/ould  still  be  highly 
inconsistent  and  unjust.  Tor  at  the  very  moment  we  are 
relaxing  in  His  service,  ten  thousand  of  His  agencies  are  at 
work  for  us.  At  the  moment  we  are  self-indulging,  we  are 
doing  it  with  His  money,  in  His  time,  at  His  expense,  by  the 
light  of  His  sun.  Bat  when  we  remember  that  every  particle 
of  influence  withheld  from  Christ  is  so  much  employed  against 
Him — that  neutrality  here  is  impossible — the  consequences  of 
such  conduct  are  alarming.  Christians,  could  you  ascend  some 
mount  of  vision,  v^dience  you  could  look  down  upon  the  con- 
sequences of  your  conduct,  you  would  see  that  at  the  moment 
when  you  thought  yourselves  most  perfectly  detached  from 
all  around  you,  there  is  a  sense  in  which  you  were  then  stand- 
ing in  the  centre  of  the  universe  with  lines  of  relation  and 
influence  drawn  from  yourselves  to  every  one  of  the  congre- 
gated myriads  ;  you  v/ould  see  that  often,  when  you  thought 
your  character  most  unobserved  and  at  rest,  it  was  giving 
out  moral  influences  without  intermission — that  the  moment 
they  ceased  to  be  good  they  began  to  be  evil — that,  however 
apparently  unimportant,  they  have  ever  since  been  swelling 
that  tide  of  evil  by  which  myriads  are  borne  on  to  perdition; 
you  would  see  that  the  world  is  the  scene  of  a  moral  con- 
flict— that  in  that  conflict  you  hold  an  appointed  post — that 
at  that  post  everything  you  possess  is  a  weapon  of  war — that 


HIS  DISCIPLES  TO  THEIR  WOEK.  309 

never  have  you  ceased  to  wield  them  cither  for  evil  or  for 
good,  for  the  moment  in  which  you  thought  you  were  only 
l^ausing,  a  shout  of  joy  ran  through  the  ranks  of  the  invisible 
foe,  who  beheld  in  that  pause  a  proof  of  your  weakness,  and 
the  sign  and  means  of  their  own  strength — so  that  when  you 
thought  you  were  only  doing  nothing  for  Christ,  they  hailed 
you  as  an  accession  to  their  own  ranks  acting  against  him ; 
and  thus  you  would  see  why  it  is  that  Meroz  v/as  cursed 
because  they  came  not  out  to  the  help  of  the  Lord,  and  why 
it  is  that  in  the  final  judgment  those  who  did  nothing  will 
find  themselves  standing  side  by  side  v/ith  them  that  did 
evil,  and  involved  in  the  same  condemnation.  Oh,  precious, 
precious  influence,  each  grain  of  which  exceeds  the  value  of 
the  globe !  Well  might  our  Lord  be  jealous  for  every  particle, 
smce  there  are  but  two  treasuries  in  the  universe,  one  for 
Him  and  the  other  for  Satan,  so  that  every  grain  withheld 
from  His  falls  into  and  enriches  the  other.  And  well  may 
the  Christian  regard  himself  with  all  the  sacredness  of  a 
tem^^le,  since  he  cannot  yield  himself  to  any  other  claimant 
than  Christ,  even  for  a  moment,  without  yielding  himself 
during  that  moment  to  a  hostile  party ;  so  that,  in  truth,  his 
only  escape  from  partial  hostihty  to  Christ  is  that  of  unre- 
served devotedness  to  His  service. 

V. 

But  has  the  prayer  of  Christ  for  the  entire  consecration  of 
His  followers  been  answered  in  any  instance?  Have  any  of 
His  followers  made  His  sanctification  for  them  the  model  and 
motive  of  their  sanctification  for  Him?  There  have  been 
such;  and  this  is  the  next  truth  to  v/hich  we  would  call 
attention. 

I  need  only  repeat  the  name  of  Paul.  I  need  not  stop  to 
prove  his  devotedness.  The  fact  is  familiar — almost  prover- 
bial. His  whole  course,  subsequent  to  his  conversion,  was 
in  harmony  with  the  prayer  of  the  text,  and  with  the 
conviction  which  he  entertained  that  he  had  been  separated 


310  CHRIST'S  CONSECEATION  OP 

or  sanctified  from  his  mother's  womb.  And  yet,  with  all 
his  self-consuming  zeal,  was  he  exceeding  his  obligations — ■ 
doing  anything  more  than  ca,rrying  out  Christian  principles 
to  their  legitimate  application — ^living  to  Christ?  Did  he 
ever  utter  a  word  which  implied  that  he  considered  himself 
an  excejDtion  to  what  others  shonld  be?  that  no  one  was 
bound  to  be  so  zealous  for  Christ  as  he  was?  that  a  lower 
standard  of  benevolence  was  sufficient  for  them?  On  the 
contrary,  how  humbly  did  he  account  himself  less  than  the 
least  of  all  saints — how  uniformly  did  he  speak  of  himself 
only  as  one  of  a  number  constrained  and  borne  onwards  by 
the  love  of  Christ — and  how  earnestly  did  he  say  to  all, 
"  Follow  me,  as  far  as  I  follow  Christ ! " 

Numbers  did  thus  follow  him.  So  effectually  were  they 
wrought  on  by  the  love  of  Christ,  that  they  "thus  judged,  that 
if  one  died  for  all  then  were  all  dead;  and  that  he  died  for  all, 
that  they  who  live  should  not  henceforth  live  unto  themselves, 
but  unto  him  that  died  for  them  and  rose  again."  They  judged 
that,  instead  of  living  as  if  they  were  under  little  or  no  obli- 
gation to  Him,  they  should  henceforth  act  as  if  the  duty  of 
living  to  Him  were  the  only  obligation  they  were  under,  and 
that  the  best  way  of  doing  that  would  be  by  conveying  the 
knowledge  of  His  redemption  to  others,  and  thus  working  out 
the  grand  j^urposes  of  His  atoning  death.  Accordingly,  they 
were  ready  to  be  messengers  or  martyrs,  honoured  or  accursed, 
anything  or  nothing,  so  that  they  might  assist  in  diffusing  the 
Gospel  of  Christ.  And  what  was  there  in  all  this  which  is 
not  obligatory  on  the  Christians  of  the  present  day?  What 
had  the  Saviour  done  for  them  which  He  has  not  equalled  and 
even  exceeded  for  us?  Compassion  moved  tliem — but  is 
irreligion  less  depraving,  or  sin  less  destructive,  or  hell  less 
fearful  now  than  then?  Zeal  for  the  glory  of  Christ  incited 
them — but  are  we  less  indebted  to  redeeming  love  .than  they? 
"We  do  not  hope  for  less  than  eternal  life;  and  did  they  expect 
more  ?  The  Spirit  of  God  impelled  and  directed  them — but 
it  was  in  ansv/er  to  earnest,  united,  and  persevering  prayer; 


HIS  DISCIPLES  TO  THEIE  YfOEK.  311 

and  is  the  throne  of  grace  less  accessible  to  us  than  it  was  to 
them  ? 

Brethren,  "the  truth/'  to  which  the  prayer  of  the  text 
refers,  has  exercised  its  consecrating  influence  not  merely  on 
a  Paul  and  his  contemporary  fellow-Christians.  In  each 
succeeding  age  it  has  been  instrumentally  creating  eminent 
examj^les  of  devotedness  to  Christ — examples  of  conscientious- 
ness, which  evaded  no  obligation — of  fidelity,  which  spared  no 
sin,  nor  allowed  any  iniquity,  however  splendid  and  powerful, 
to  pass  unrebuked — of  courage,  which  cowered  before  no 
opposition,  and  shrank  from  no  conflict — of  enlarged  bene- 
volence, which  knew  no  limits  to  its  plans,  and  toils,  and 
travails  for  the  welfare  of  men — of  Christian  self-abandonment, 
which  swore  eternal  devotedness  to  Christ,  though  in  the 
presence  of  the  flames  v/hich  were  kindled  for  its  martyrdom 
— and  of  love  for  man,  which,  even  in  those  flames,  wept  over 
the  misery  of  the  world,  and  agonized  in  prayer  for  its 
recovery. 

These  examples  are  not  lost.  Whether  Vv^e  are  conscious 
of  their  stimulating  power  or  not,  we  are  all  at  this  moment 
reaping  their  advantage,  and  are  consequently  standing  under 
the  weight  of  an  increased  responsibility.  Shall  we  not 
aspire,  in  the  strength  of  Christ,  to  coj^y  and  perpetuate  them 
in  our  devotedness? 

VI. 

Dear  friends,  the  practical  application  of  all  this  to  your- 
selves is  obvious.  In  every  bosom  present  it  should  excite 
the  inquiry,  first,  have  I  been  sanctified  in  any  sense?  or  am 
I  stiU  an  undistinguishable  part  of  that  unregenerated  mass 
of  humanity  called  the  world,  over  which  the  doom  of 
destruction  is  suspended,  and  yet  towards  which  mercy  is  all 
the  day  long  stretching  out  its  hands  to  save?  Oh,  we  beseech 
you — and  especially  you,  my  dear  young  friends — by  the 
mercies  of  God,  by  the  love  of  Christ,  by  the  tender  and 
gracious  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  that  ye  come  out  from 


812  CHRIST'S  CONSECRATION  OF 

the  world  and  be  sej)arate,  and  that  ye  present  yourselves 
as  living  sacrifices,  holy  and  acceptable  to  God,  which  is 
your  reasonable  service. 

But  many  of  you  profess  to  have  done  this.  You  avow 
your  obligation  to  the  Son  of  God.  All  your  jDresent  enjoy- 
ments, and  all  your  hopes  for  the  future,  you  readily  ascribe 
to  the  riches  of  His  grace.  And  often  have  you  asked — are 
asking  now — "  Lord,  what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  do?''  "  He 
hath  shewed  thee,  0  man,  what  is  good."  He  hath  prayed 
that  you  might  be  sanctified  through  the  truth,  reminding 
you,  first,  that  you  are  not  to  be  passive  in  this  consecration 
— that  it  is  to  be  effected  through  the  influence  of  the  tymtli 
— so  that  your  understanding,  your  conscience,  your  judg- 
ment, your  aff'ections,  your  will,  all  the  powers  of  your  mind, 
are  to  be  brought  into  exercise ;  and  reminding  you  that  you 
are  to  go  in  search  of  that  truth  to  the  cross — that  it  is  tlie 
doctrine  of  a  dying  Saviour's  love  which  possesses  the  greatest 
adajDtation  to  move  a  guilty  sinner's  heart.  He  2^^^^^y^^^  ^^^ 
your  consecration,  reminding  you,  next,  that  even  the  doctrine 
of  the  cross,  exquisite  as  its  adaptation  may  be  to  move  your 
heart,  needs  to  be  applied  by  a  power  from  on  high — and 
cheering  you  with  the  assurance,  that  for  that  heavenly  i^ower 
you  can  never  pray,  but  He  joins  in  the  prayer,  and  thus 
insures  your  success. 

Ask  you  still,  then,  vfhat  He  would  have  you  to  do? 
What  can  you  do,  but  let  your  love  to  Him  take  the  form  of 
His  love  to  you?  and  what  was  that  but  compassion  for  the 
guilty,  and  active,  devoted,  unsparing  efforts  to  save  the 
perishing,  and  thus  promote  the  glory  of  God?  What  could 
the  Saviour  himself  do,  as  a  Saviour,  in  a  world  like  ours, 
but  labour  to  rescue  it  from  destruction?  And  so  completely 
did  He  redeem  it,  that  He  has  left  nothing  for  you  to  do  but 
to  diffuse  the  knowledge  of  His  salvation.  The  only  path 
which  He  has  left  for  you  to  travel  is  that  which  leads  from 
His  cross  to  the  sinner — the  only  labour  to  perform,  that  of 
tellino-  the  world  of  His  love.     And  how  can  you  do  less  than 


mS  DISCIPLES  TO  THEIE  WOEK.  81 3 

devote  j^oursclf  to  it?  Ask  you  ivhen  ?  Shall  it  be  to- 
morrow, or  a  week  hence?  The  Holy  Ghost  saith,  "  To-day, 
if  ye  will  hear  His  voice."  To-day,  you  have  eularged  this 
His  material  sanctuary,  and  are  now  assembled  in  it;  shall 
not  your  hearts  enlarge  as  His  living  temples  to  receive  Him? 
He  comes  here  both  to  aid  your  devotion  and  to  be  its  object; 
will  you  not  welcome  His  presence?  He  has  come  here 
expressly  to  sanctify  you  through  the  truth;  and  will  you 
not  open  your  hearts  to  His  sanctifying  power?  Yes,  He  is 
more  than  coming — He  hath  come — He  "standeth  at  the 
door." 


81 4  THE  UNION  OF  THE  CHUECH  FOR 


SEEMON  XIV. 

THE  UNION  OF  THE  CHUECH  FOE  THE  CONVEESION 
OF  THE  WOELD. 

John  xvii.  20,  21 — "  Neither  pray  I  for  these  alone,  but  for  them  also  ivhicli 
shall  believe  on  me  through  their  word  ;  that  tliey  all  may  be  one  ;  as 
thou.  Father,  art  in  me,  and  I  in  thee,  that  they  also  may  be  one  in  us  : 
that  the  world  may  believe  that  thou  hast  sent  me." 

This  subject  was  suggested  to  my  mind  as  appropriate  to 
the  present  occasion,  on  learning  that  this  service,  rehating 
to  the  erection  of  a  chaj)el  by  the  Christians  of  our  denomi- 
nation, was  to  be  held  in  a  chapel  belonging  to  another 
denomination.  Now,  such  conduct,  as  far  as  it  goes,  is  in 
harmony  with  the  prayer  of  our  Lord  in  the  text ;  the  doc- 
trine of  which  is  simply  this — that  the  visible  union  of  the 
Christian  Church  is  essential,  as  a  means,  to  the  conversion 
of  the  luorld. 

Were  I  to  be  asked  what  I  conceive  to  be  the  principal 
evils  which  the  Christian  Church  has  at  present  to  deplore, 
T  suppose  I  should  be  only  uttering  the  02)inion  of  thousands 
were  I  to  reply,  covetousness,  disunion,  and  undevoutness ;  in 
other  words,  the  great  wants  of  the  Church  are,  liberality 
union,  and  prayer.  In  enlarging  now  on  the  second  of 
these  topics,  let  me  invite  your  attention  to  the  Scripture 
doctrine  of  the  union  of  Christians — to  the  lamentable  deOTee 
in  which  this  union  is  at  present  wanting — the  way  in  which 
this  want  of  union  impedes  the  propagation  of  the  Gospel — 
the  nature  of  that  union  whicli  should  be  attemx)ted  for  the 


THE  CONVERSION  OF  THE  WORLD.  815 

extension  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ — the  manner  in  which 
the  attempt  should  be  made — and  the  motives  which  should 
induce  us  thus  to  unite.  May  the  sjDirit  of  truth  aid  our 
meditations,  and  the  spirit  of  love  enable  us  to  act  on  them ! 

I. 

First:  that  there  is  a  sense  in  which  Christians  should  be 
visibly  one,  is  a  truth  so  fully  insisted  on  in  Scripture,  and 
so  freely  admitted  by  all  who  bear  the  Christian  name,  that 
argument  on  the  subject  is  quite  unnecessary.  As  to  the 
nature  of  that  oneness,  it  will  suffice  for  the  present  to  remark, 
that  it  is  a  union  of  faith,  as  it  relates  to  Christ — of  affection, 
as  it  relates  to  each  other — and  of  benevolent  co-operation, 
in  relation  to  the  world. 

11. 

Nor,  secondly,  can  it  be  necessary  to  enlarge  on  the  fact, 
that  union  among  Christians  is,  in  the  present  day,  lament- 
ably  luanting.  It  has  almost  become  proverhially  true. 
The  brotherly  love  which  ought  to  subsist  between  the  dif- 
ferent denominations  of  Christians  has  to  a  great  degree 
vanished,  and  where  open  rupture  has  not  ensued,  a  masked 
affectation  of  charity  passes  in  its  stead.  It  would  be  a  self- 
contradiction  for  children  of  the  same  parent  to  profess  that 
they  cherish  the  most  sincere  affection  for  each  other,  and 
yet  refuse  to  sit  at  the  same  table,  or  to  exchange  the 
mutual  expressions  of  fraternal  love.  And  equally  absurd 
and  hypocritical  is  it  for  the  members  of  different  denomi- 
nations to  pretend  to  mutual  affection,  and  yet  to  withhold 
from  each  other  the  most  natural  expressions  of  love.  They 
mistake  their  mere  worldly  politeness  for  the  sanctified 
ardour  of  Christian  love.  Instead  of  sincerely  welcoming 
their  fellow-Christians  to  the  intimacies  of  Christian  fellow- 
ship, they  content  themselves  with  the  bare  avoidance  of 
rudeness,  and  say,  "  Depart  in  peace.''  Instead  of  pouring 
in  oil  and  wine  into  the  smarting  wounds  which  calumny 


olG  THE  UNION  OF  THE  CHUECH  FOR 

may  have  inflicted,  they  tliiiik  it  very  praise v/ortliy  forbear- 
ance that  tliey  do  not  inflict  an  additional  stab,  and  "  pass 
by  on  the  other  side/'  How  cutting  the  satire  which  should 
now  say,  "  See  how  these  Christians  love!"  when  they  have 
only  just  religion  enough  to  hate;  when  they  may  be  heard 
calling  on  Christians  to  come  out  from  their  fellow- Christians 
and  to  come  over  to  them,  as  loudly  as  they  call  on  the 
irreligious  to  come  out  from  the  world  and  be  separate ;  when 
they  exult  in  a  proselyte  from  another  Church  more  than  in 
a  convert  from  the  world;  when,  by  "the  honour  of  Christ," 
they  mean  the  interest  of  their  own  party — by  Christian 
charity,  the  love  of  that  party — by  scriptural  union,  the 
subjugation  of  Christendom  to  the  cherished  peculiarities  of 
that  party;  and  when  a  scant  and  gauzy  affectation  of  charity 
is  supposed  to  be  an  adequate  substitute  for  the  warm  and 
ample  robe  of  Christian  love. 

III. 

But,  thirdly,  let  us  mark  the  ways  in  which  our  want  of 
Christian  union  impedes  the  propagation  of  the  Gospel 
Observe,  we  are  not  now  j^rofessing  to  enumerate  all  the 
evils  which  arise  from  our  divisions,  or  we  should  attempt 
to  shew  how  they  injuriously  affect  the  religious  intellect 
and  the  practical  judgment,  by  confining  the  one  to  the  mere 
points  of  difference  between  us,  and  the  other  to  the  imper- 
fections and  faults  of  those  who  differ  from  us — how  neces- 
sarily they  impair  our  piety,  and  proportionally  diminish  our 
enjoyment — how  they  tend  to  destroy  a  sense  of  our  common 
interest,  so  that  my  church,  you7^  church,  their  church,  have 
become  phrases  so  familiar,  that  Christ's  universal  Church,  to 
which  each  of  these  belong,  and  which  comprehends  thena 
all,  is  comparatively  forgotten — ^liow  each  party  is  led  to 
appoint  terms  of  communion  with  itself,  which  disparage 
and  virtually  repeal  the  scriptural  bonds  of  union — how  the 
sphit  of  division,  so  far  from  extini>'uishin2j  existino;  differ- 
ences  of  sentiment,  tends  to  magnify  them,  and  to  create 


THE  CONVEESION  OF  THE  WOELD.  317 

others — how  it  keeps  the  sj^irit  of  calumny  in  constant 
activity — and  how  highly  unfavourable  it  is  to  the  correction 
of  denominational  evils,  and  the  adoption  of  ecclesiastical 
improvements,  each  party  being  afraid  to  advert  to  its  own 
defects,  lest  those  defects  should  be  magnified  by  its  opponents, 
and  be  turned  into  a  song  of  triumph. 

The  evils  to  which  we  would  now  confine  our  attention, 
however,  are  specific — those  which  retard  the  propagation 
of  the  Gospel.  And  we  remark,  first,  that  the  unfriendly 
divisions  existing  among  Christians  greatly  dishonour 
Chi^istiayiity  in  the  eyes  of  the  luorld.  As  long  as  Christians 
contended  only  with  real  foes  luithout  the  Church,  their 
ranks  were  compact,  and  their  numbers  and  strength  went 
on  increasing.  But  from  the  moment  they  began  to  contend 
with  fancied  foes  ivithin,  then*  conquests  ceased,  and  their 
day  of  weakness  commenced.  Ecclesiastical  historians  are 
unanimous  in  representing  the  endless  schisms  which  early 
divided  and  subdivided  the  once  flourishing  churches  of  the 
East,  as  having  eminently  prepared  the  way  for  Mohammed- 
anism, and  even  invited  its  march  over  their  ruins.  Equally 
certain  is  it,  that  the  contentions  of  our  Reformers  retarded 
the  progress,  and  enfeebled  the  spirit  of  the  Reformation ;  so 
that  many  who  had  left  the  Church  of  Eome  returned  again 
to  its  bosom,  and  others  retired  and  wept  in  secret.  And 
who  does  not  know  that  our  existing  divisions  are  the  dis- 
grace of  Protestantism  in  the  eyes  of  the  Romanist,  and  tend 
most  efiectually  to  rivet  the  fetters  of  his  superstition?  One 
of  his  avowed  and  published  reasons  why  he  cannot  conform 
to  the  Protestant  religion  is  in  these  words,  "  Because  the 
Protestant  Church  is  not  one,  but  is  divided  in  faith  and 
communion.''  True  it  is,  indeed,  that  the  Romish  Church 
itself  is  essentially  divided  in  a  variety  of  points,  both  of 
doctrine  and  discipline — that  its  boasted  unity  is  merely 
artificial  and  mechanical,  the  unity  of  the  deaf  concerning 
sounds,  and  of  the  blind  concerning  colours.  But  this  does 
not  release  the  sectarian  Protestant  from  the  guilt  of  flattering 


818  THE  UNION  OF  THE  CHUECH  FOR 

the  Papist  into  a  piefereiice  for  liis  own  system  of  errors. 
Who  dc-es  not  know  that  thousands  have  been  proselyted  to 
Popery  on  account  of  our  divisions  ?  "  Thousands/''  says 
Baxter,  "  have  been  drawn  into  Popery  by  this  argument — 
more  than  by  all  their  other  argTiments  put  together/'  And 
who  is  not  aware  that  infidelity  itself  derives  its  strongest 
v/eapon  from  the  divisions  of  the  Christian  Church  ?  "  Our 
controversies  about  religion/'  says  Stillingfleet,  "  have  at  last 
brought  even  religion  itself  into  a  controversy."  And  what 
is  the  result  of  these  disgraceful  and  wasting  divisions?  Why, 
that  Mohammedanism,  Popery,  and  irreligion  still  divide  the 
civilized  world  between  them — that  reformed  Christianity 
finds,  on  numbering  its  foUov/ers,  that  it  still  stands  in  a 
most  insignificant  minority;  and  worse  still,  that,  like  the 
two  contending  armies  which  knew  nothing  of  the  earthquake 
v>^hich  had  threatened  to  engulf  them  both  during  their  conflict, 
they  are  so  engrossed  with  their  internal  quarrels,  that  they 
are  still  insensible  to  their  consequent  weakness,  and  to  the 
disgrace  they  are  inflicting  on  religion  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world. 

Again,  our  divisions  are  essentially  ruinous  to  the  souls  of 
men.  The  ways  in  wdiich  they  operate  to  this  dreadful  efi'ect 
are  various.  One  of  these  may  be  inferred  from  vvdiat  we 
have  just  advraiced — thej/  tend  to  confirm  the  irreligious  in 
their  impiety.  Another  is,  that  they  ^wove  serious  impedi- 
ments to  the  sincere  inquirer  after  the  truth.  Besides  which, 
tlie  sectarian  spirit  j^ctsses  ivith  numbers  for  the  relirj-ious 
spirit,  and  is  their  substitute  for  it.  "  Have  you  never  knovm 
such  a  case,''  says  Howt,  "  in  which  a  j^roud  man,  a  covetous 
man,  an  ungodly  man,  passed  for  a  good  man,  because  he 
stood  up  for  a  faction?"  Men  of  this  class  are  the  crusaders 
of  the  Church,  who  mistake  battling  in  behalf  of  their 
joarty  for  defending  the  fiiith — wdio  regard  contention  for  the 
truth  as  a  good  equivalent  for  believing  it,  and  whose 
confidence  of  their  spiritual  security  it  would  be  all  but 
impossible  to  shake,  since  they  are  conscious  of  a  readiness 


THE  CONVERSION  OF  THE  WORLD.  319 

even  to  fight,  if  necessary,  in  defence  of  religion — tlie  religion 
of  their  party.  "  Oh,  how  many  millions  of  souls,''  exclaims 
Baxter,  "  are  kept  in  ignorance  and  deluded  by  faction  as  if  it 
were  true  religion ! "  As  if  the  obstacles  to  the  salvation  of 
men  were  not  sufficiently  great  without,  we  thus,  by  our  dis- 
sensions, multiply  the  difficulties  of  some,  and  confirm  the 
fatal  delusions  of  others.  We  who  are  aj^pointed  instru- 
mentally  to  save  them,  become  the  occasions  of,  and  acces- 
sories to,  their  destruction. 

And  then,  moreover,  our  divisions  endanger  the  success  of 
our  missionary  operations,  and  delay  the  conversion  of  the 
world.  They  do  this  partly  by  dividing  our  limited  instru- 
mentality. One  church  abounds  more  in  the  zeal  vdiicli 
burns  for  active  exertion,  and  another  in  the  v/isdom  which 
is  profitable  to  direct ;  here  union  would  be  strength,  but 
sej)aration  is  vreakness  and  folly.  One  society  calls  aloud  for 
agents,  and  pledges  itself  to  raise  the  funds  for  their  support ; 
while  another  proclaims  that  it  has  agents  ready  if  it  did  but 
possess  means  for  sending  them  forth.  Here  sympathy  witli 
each  other's  wants,  by  uniting  their  respective  means,  would 
augment  the  resources  of  both ;  while  a  spirit  of  division  is 
making  that  which  is  already  little,  still  less.  The  combined 
resources  of  the  whole  Church  would  be  only  adequate- 
to  its  work;  but,  as  if  we  possessed  them  in  superfluous 
abundance,  we  so  effectually  reduce  them  by  our  division, 
that  their  insignificance  temj^ts  opposition,  and  incurs  defeat. 

Not  only  do  our  dissensions  divide  and  weaken  our  mis- 
sionray  resources  at  home,  they  also  counteract  their  influence 
abroad.  It  is  in  vain  to  say  that  but  little  disagreement 
exists  as  yet  among  our  Christian  missionaries  abroad ;  the 
seeds  of  discord  only  ask  for  time,  and  they  will  not  fail  to 
bear  their  proper  fruit.  It  is  in  vain  to  say  that  good  is  done 
notvnthstanding  our  disunion;  the  partial  good  which  is 
effected  abroad  is  effected  by  merging  the  disputes  of  home  ; 
in  fact,  by  uniting — by  pretending  to  a  degree  of  fraternity 
which  the  relative  state  of  parties  at  home  will  not  justify. 


820  THE  UNION  OF  THE  CHUECH  FOE 

And  would  not  a  knowledge  of  our  differences  there  be  fatal 
to  our  usefulness?  Would  it  not  shake  the  confidence  of  the 
recent  convert  there — and  embroil  the  churches — and  cover 
the  Ijreast  of  the  idolater  with  an  additional  coat  of  resistance 
to  the  arrows  of  the  Lord — and  arm  the  Brahmin,  the  sceptic, 
and  every  hostile  hand,  with  a  new  weapon  of  attack?  To 
expect  that  a  divided  Church  should  be  honoured  by  God  in 
the  conversion  of  the  world,  is  to  expect  that  the  prayer  of 
Christ,  in  the  text,  will  be  frustrated  in  pure  indulgence  to 
our  perverseness.  Having  implored  the  unity  of  His  discij^les 
as  essential  to  the  final  success  of  His  Gospel,  we  cannot 
expect  the  end  independent  of  the  means,  without  im2:)ugning 
His  wisdom,  and  hoping  that  His  prayer  may  be  forgotten. 

The  unity  of  tlie  Church  is  not  merely  a  scriptural  doc- 
trine ;  its  practical  and  visible  exhibition  is  evidently  intended 
to  be  the  grand  means  for  the  conversion  of  the  world.  By 
our  divisions,  therefore,  we  are  either  guiltily  counteracting 
the  plans  of  God,  or  else  they  evince  an  expectation  that,  in 
homage  to  our  iuiportance,  He  will  repeal  His  own  well- 
ordered  designs — put  extraordinary  honour  on  those  who 
love  their  own  particular  opinions  in  preference  to  His  com- 
mands— and  thus  publish  Himself  to  the  world  as  the 
patron  of  variance  and  divisions  among  His  people. 

And,  more  than  all,  our  dissensions  impede  the  usefulness 
of  the  Church,  and  delay  the  conversion  of  the  world,  hij 
grieving  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God.  Were  any  particular 
section  of  the  Church  profanely  to  proclaim  its  independence 
of  Divine  influence,  it  would  be  denounced  as  heterodox  by 
the  common  consent  of  Christendom.  And  yet  the  necessity 
of  such  influence  is  not  insisted  on  in  Scripture  more  clearly 
and  frequently  than  is  the  necessity  of  Christian  union,  in 
order  to  the  full  impartation  of  that  influence.  So  that,  to 
expect  enlarged  prosperity  without  the  aid  of  the  Spirit, 
and  to  expect  His  enlarged  aid  in  a  divided  Church,  are 
expectations  equally  unscriptural  and  j)rofane.  Had  the 
dawning  of  the  day  of  Pentecost  found  the  apostles  assembled 


THE  CONVEESION  OF  THE  WOELD.  321 

in  strife,  or  split  into  factions,  can  we  imagine  that  the  Divine 
Sj^irit  wonld  have  approached  the  contentions  scene — or  have 
filled  with  His  presence  a  lionse  filled  already  with  the 
presence  of  anotlier,  an  evil  spirit  ?  Something  qnicker  and 
stronger  than  reasoning — an  instinctive  conviction — tells  us 
that  He  would  not.  And  what,  then,  is  the  change,  pray, 
which  we  suj^pose  Him  to  have  since  imdergone — or  what 
the  peculiar  grounds  which  lead  us  to  expect  that  He  will 
mingle  with  our  strifes  and  countenance  our  schisms?  He  is 
still  the  Spirit  of  peace,  and  can  He  approve  of  our  wars?  He 
is  still  the  Spirit  of  love,  and  can  He  dwell  amidst  elements 
of  anger  and  hostility?  Or,  as  the  Sj)irit  of  union,  can  He 
consistently  put  marked  honour  on  the  instrumentality  of  a 
Church  which  seems  determined  to  move  only  in  parties, 
and  to  work  only  in  factions  ?  Indeed,  it  is  well  worthy  the 
consideration  of  the  Christian  Church,  w^hether  it  is  not 
occupying  at  this  moment  a  position  of  infatuation  and 
guilt,  in  relation  to  the  agency  of  the  promised  Spirit,  similar 
to  that  of  the  ancient  Jews  in  relation  to  the  promised 
Messiah — whether  it  is  not  equally  true  of  each  that  "He 
came  to  His  o^rt^i,  and  His  own  received  Him  not/' 

But  the  evils  resulting  from  a  spirit  of  division,  what 
tongue  can  enumerate?  Disdaining  the  ruin  of  only  a 
single  Christian,  or  a  particular  church,  its  aim  is  to  embroil 
and  destroy  the  whole  Christian  community.  Times  have 
been,  when  all  the  armed  powers  of  the  earth  were  fighting 
in  its  2^ay,  and  all  the  engines  of  torture  active  in  its  service. 
And  if  it  has  become  less  conversant  than  formerly  with  the 
grosser  forms  of  persecution,  it  is  not  owing  to  any  change 
in  its  nature.  Though  more  than  ever  disowned  and  rej)ro- 
bated  with  the  tongue,  it  enjoys  the  secret  countenance,  and 
the  tried  and  faithful  services,  of  a  mixed  multitude  in  all 
communions.  It  can  boast  of  animosities  as  bitter — domi- 
nations as  lordly — exactions  as  oppressive — calumnies  as 
unfounded — and  contentions  as  furious,  as  ever.  It  finds  it 
as  difficult  as  ever  to  conceive  of  salvation  out  of  its  ovm. 

X 


322         THE  UNION  OF  THE  CHUECH  FOR 

little  enclosure.  Its  operations  are  as  active,  extensive,  and 
fearful  as  ever.  Slander  prej)ares  for  it  her  subtlest  poison 
— breathes  susj)icion  on  acts  over  which  all  heaven  is  rejoicing 
— and  makes  it  a  virtue  to  hate  men  whom  it  should  be  a 
happiness  to  love.  As  if  it  were  actually  experimenting  on 
the  infinite  divisibility  of  the  Church,  it  continues  absorbed 
in  punctilios,  and  insistmg  on  comparative  trifles;  heedless, 
meantime,  of  the  cries  of  the  souls  it  is  ruining — of  the 
laugh  of  the  world  it  is  amusing — of  the  awful  remonstrance 
of  the  God  it  is  offending;  heedless,  meantime,  that  among 
the  most  obvious  consequences  of  its  conduct  are  the  grieved 
Spirit  of  God  retiring  from  it  to  the  greatest  possible 
distance  compatible  with  the  continued  existence  of  the 
Church — the  infliction  of  fresh  wounds  on  the  body  of  Christ 
— the  prolongation  of  the  reign  of  Antichrist — the  delay  of 
the  ultimate  triumphs  of  the  Gospel — the  postponement  of 
millennial  bliss. 

IV. 

Then  let  us,  fourthty,  consider  the  union  which  should  be 
attempted,  with  a  view  to  the  extension  of  the  kingdom  of 
Christ.  Christian  union,  to  be  permanent,  must  be  based  on 
the  supreme  authority  of  the  Word  of  God,  and  on  the 
inalienable  right  of  j)rivate  judgment.  These  are  the  grand, 
though  simple,  principles  of  the  Eeformation;  and  the  Pro- 
testant who  undervalues  them  is  saying,  in  effect,  "  Let  us 
relapse  again  into  the  bosom  of  the  Eomish  Church ; "  and  any 
association  in  the  Church  which  overlooks  or  violates  these 
princij)les,  is  sure,  sooner  or  later,  to  be  broken  up.  Acting 
consistently  on  these,  we  shall  not  attempt  a  unity  which 
means  uniformity — which  substitutes  submission  to  authority 
for  the  investigation  of  truth — which  prevents  a  difference  of 
opinion  by  allowing  no  opinion  at  all.  We  shall  not  require 
the  members  of  another  denomination  to  conform  to  us, 
but  shall  be  tender  of  their  right  to  judge  for  themselves, 
as  a  condition   involving   our  own   liberty  and   wellbeing. 


THE  CONVERSION  OF  THE  WOELD.  823 

Another  essential  to  Christian  union  is  substantial  oneness 
of  faith.  Moi^e  than  substantial  agreement  is  unattainable 
and  unnecessary ;  less  would  leave  us  without  any  inducement 
to  unite;  but  this  is  not  only  attainable,  it  already  exists. 
Justification  by  faith  in  the  atoning  sacrifice  of  Christ — 
together  with  the  doctrines  which  that  great  truth  necessarily 
involves — is  held  alike  by  Episcopalian  and  Presbyterian, 
Methodist,  Baptist,  and  Independent — by  all  the  orthodox 
sections  of  which  the  Christian  community  consists. 

The  union  sought  must  be  holy,  a  fellowship  of  Christians; 
for  its  object  is  to  subvert  the  empire  of  sin,  and  to  extend 
and  establish  the  reign  of  holiness. 

Such  an  association  would  be  cemented  hy  brotherly  love. 
Nothing  less  than  love  will  satisfy  the  demands  of  Scripture 
— no  imity  of  oj^inion  in  the  bond  of  ignorance — no  unity  of 
profession  in  the  bond  of  hypocrisy — nothing  but  the  "unity 
of  the  Spirit  in  the  bond  of  peace.''  This  love  would  neces- 
sarily discover  itself  in  aiypropriate  acts  and  expressions. 
One  of  these  visible  expressions,  of  love  to  each  other,  the 
Head  of  the  Church  has  Himself  specifically  appointed,  in 
the  ordinance  of  "  the  Lord's  Suj^per.''  A  union  which 
should  propose  to  omit  the  communion  of  Christians  or  of 
churches  in  this  ordinance  would  be  radically  unscrijDtural 
and  defective;  and  the  church  which  intentionally  places  an 
obstacle  in  the  way  of  it,  is  obviously  opposing  the  will  of  God. 

Unanimity  of  heart  would  infallibly  produce  unanimity  of 
action  in  the  Christian  cause.  The  jDracticability  of  such 
co-operation  among  Christians  of  different  denominations  has 
long  been  demonstrated  in  the  constitution  and  workino;  of 
the  Religious  Tract  Society,  and  of  the  British  and  Foreign 
Bible  Society ;  while  the  public  anniversaries  of  these  noble 
institutions,  as  well  as  of  most  of  our  missionary  societies, 
have  often  been  festivals  of  Christian  love,  "  such  as  earth 
saw  never,  such  as  heaven  stoops  down  to  see.'' 

If  we  do  not  add  that  Christians  should  be  one  in  name,  it 
is  not  because  we  regard  such  oneness  as  unimportant,  or  as 


324         THE  UNION  OF  THE  CHURCH  FOR 

Tiltimately  unattainable,  but  because  we  believe  that  it  will 
be  among  the  latest  triumphs,  if  not  the  very  crowning  act  of 
brotherly  love.  AVhat  is  of  much  more  immediate  importance, 
and  more  easily  attainable,  and  more  urgently  enforced  in 
Scripture,  is,  that  the  union  of  Christians  should  be  visible. 
For  this  our  Saviour  prayed — and  prayed  for  it  as  a  requisite 
to  the  conversion  of  the  world.  It  is  in  vain  to  reply  that  His 
followers  are  one,  as  members  of  that  one  body  of  which  He 
is  the  glorified  Head.  This  is  hioiun  only  to  the  Church  in 
heaven,  and  understood  only  by  the  Church  on  earth;  whereas 
the  world  also  must  see  it.  Evidence  must  be  given  to  the 
senses  of  men,  that  not  merely  in  profession,  but  in  heart 
and  object,  we  are  one.  The  fact  should  be  too  jDlain  to  be 
misunderstood,  and  too  palpable  to  remain  a  secret.  Now, 
the  elements  of  union  we  have  described  include  all  that  is 
necessary  to  produce  this  visibility.  By  practically  admitting 
the  supremacy  of  the  ^Yord  of  God,  we  should  feel  ourselves 
bound  to  revise  the  constitution  of  the  Church  to  which  w^e 
belono',  in  order  to  remove  from  it  whatever  infrino-ed  on 
that  supremacy;  and,  by  acting  on  the  universal  right  of 
private  judgment,  we  should  perceive  the  inconsistency  of 
all  ecclesiastical  imposition  and  assumption — and  deprecate 
everything  like  penalty  and  degradation  for  the  exercise  of 
that  right — and  thus  some  of  the  principal  roots  of  bitterness 
would,  at  once  and  effectually,  be  cut  up  by  the  roots.  Born 
into  the  same  Christian  family — adoring  the  same  Eedeemer 
— making  His  character  our  common  model — the  salvation 
of  the  world  for  which  He  died  our  common  solicitude — and 
His  glory  our  only  end — what  could  result  but  the  visible 
oneness  of  all  who  answered  to  this  description?  In  order 
to  render  the  spectacle  perfect,  indeed,  the  union  shoidd  be 
one  of  churches  or  denominations;  but,  even  short  of  this, 
such  a  union  of  individual  Christians — of  a  considerable 
number  of  the  members  of  different  denominations — would 
of  itself  be  a  pledge  and  jirelude  of  the  speedy  and  complete 
imion  of  the  whole,  and  of  the  approaching  conversion  of 


THE  CONVEESION  OF  THE  WOULD.  325 

tlie  world.  Like  tlie  friendly  j^rovinces  of  the  same  conti- 
nent, spccaking  the  same  language,  living  in  allegiance  to 
the  same  sovereign,  and  engaged  in  mutual  and  general 
traffic,  the  Church  would  present  one  scene  of  spiritual  com- 
merce, carried  on  for  the  advantage  of  the  world,  and  visible 
to  the  universe.  God  would  bless  us,  and  all  the  ends  of  the 
earth  should  fear  Him. 


How,  then,  fifthly,  is  this  union  to  be  attempted?  V^ere 
we  to  recount  all  the  attempts  v/hich  have  been  made  to 
restore  the  unity  of  the  Church,  we  should  find  them  to 
consist  of  three  classes — Those  which  have  aimed  to  repress 
diversity  of  religious  opinion,  and  to  produce  universal  con- 
formity to  a  given  creed,  by  emj^loying  the  principle  of 
coercion;  those  which  have  employed  argumentative  dis- 
cussion, with  the  view  of  obtaining  compromise  and  conces- 
sion; while  the  third  description  proceeds  en  the  Catholic 
principle  of  uniting  on  the  great  basis  of  evangelical  doctrine 
in  which  we  already  agree,  and  of  exercising  mutual  forbear- 
ance on  all  subordinate  matters.  The  former  two  have  lono- 
been  tried,  and  every  trial  has  been  a  failure.  Indeed,  the 
very  nature  of  the  imion  proposed  puts  them  entirely  out  of 
the  question.  The  last  named,  then,  is  the  only  plan  which 
now  remains  for  the  Church  to  pursue — and  this  is  the 
scriptural  plan.  Shame,  everlasting  shame  on  the  Church, 
that  the  efficacy  of  this  plan  should  yet  remain  to  be  tried. 

But  the  success  even  of  this  method  materially  depends, 
under  God,  on  the  spirit  and  manner  in  Avhich  it  is  pursued. 
There  is  not  only  a  right  kind  of  imion,  but  also  a  right 
metJiod  of  attempting  it.  We  must  abandon,  for  instance, 
all  thoughts  of  universal  conformity  to  a  given  standard  of 
faith.  The  church  which  proposes  that  all  other  churches 
should  come  over  to  it,  and  be  absorbed  in  it,  is  only  evincing 
its  own  vanity  and  its  ignorance  both  of  the  Word  of  God 
and  of  human  nature,  and  is  acting  in  the  very  spirit  of 


826         THE  UNION  OF  THE  CHUECH  FOR 

disunion.  The  union  wliicli  tlie  Bible  inculcates  is  tliat 
which  would  allow  the  Baptist  to  remain  a  Baptist — which 
woidd  allow  the  Pi-cdo-Baptist  to  remain  a  Psedo-Baptist — 
which  would  allow  the  Episcopalian  to  remain  an  Episcopa- 
lian— which  would  combine  them  together  on  earth,  on  the 
same  principle  which  will  imite  them  together  in  heaven — 
not  as  Denominationalists,  but  as  Christians.  Neither  have 
we  any  faith  in  the  utility  of  subscription  to  articles,  or  forms 
of  agreement,  as  the  means  of  uniting  Christians  of  different 
persuasions.  That  union,  to  be  scriptural,  must  be  the  effect 
of  love;  if  that  love  exists  already,  such  subscri^Dtion  is 
unnecessary;  and  if  it  do  not,  subscription  is  a  poor  substi- 
tute. Besides  which,  such  documents  themselves  are  almost 
certain,  sooner  or  later,  to  become  the  occasion  of  contention 
and  division. 

No;  were  we  only  to  carry  out  acknowledged  principles, 
and  to  reduce  existing  views  to  practice,  the  union  desired 
v/ould  be  effected.  AVe  profess,  for  instance^  to  believe  in  the 
supreme  authority  of  the  Word  of  God,  and  in  the  right  of 
every  man  to  follow  his  own  convictions  of  its  dictates.  Let 
us  act  consistently  with  our  profession,  and  we  shall  not,  we 
cannot,  look  coldly  on  a  Christian  brother,  for  exercising 
that  right,  and  conscientiously  following  these  convictions, 
even  though  they  conduct  him  to  conclusions  slightly  differ- 
ing from  our  own.  Let  us  act  consistently  with  our  pro- 
fession, and  we  shall  not  only  not  exclude  him  from  our 
sympathies,  we  shall  feel  that  the  system,  or  the  state  of 
things,  which  in  any  way  depresses  him  for  exercising  an 
acknowledged  right,  must  be  wrong — that  we  are  bound  to 
do  all  we  can  to  remedy  the  evil — and  that  till  then  he  is 
entitled  to  even  more  than  an  ordinary  share  of  our  Christian 
reo-ard.  We  have  shewn  that  the  union  sought  is  based  on 
the  common  reception  of  evangelical  doctrines.  Let  us  ask 
ourselves  if,  in  the  Church  to  which  we  belong,  Christian 
union  is  built  on  these  doctrines  alonje ;  and,  if  it  be  not,  let 
us  remember,  that  in  proportion  as  we  increase  the  number  of 


THE  CGNVEESION  OF  THE  WOELD.         327 

requisites  to  communion,  we  multiply  the  occasions  of  clissen- 
tion  and  division.  Having  rejected  all  terms  of  communion 
whicli  are  not  terms  of  salvation,  we  should  then  be  ready  to 
fraternize  with  all  whom  we  regard  as  practical  believers, 
and  with  such  only.  To  admit  an  migodly  man  into  the 
Church  of  Christ,  and  to  reject  a  sincere  Christian,  are  acts 
equally  schismatic  in  their  spirit  and  tendency;  in  the  former 
case  we  are  admitting  an  element  of  division,  and  in  the 
latter  rejecting  an  element  of  union.  So  that  to  make  the 
Church  more  holy,  and  to  make  it  one,  are  the  same  thing. 

When  a  schism  existed  in  the  Church  at  Corinth,  the 
remedy  which  the  apostle  prescribed  as  infallible  was  the  cul- 
tivation of  brotherly  love.  Again,  when  consulted  respecting 
the  divisions  of  the  Church  at  Colosse — when  he  describes 
himself  as  enduring  an  agony  for  the  maintenance  of  their 
union — and  when  we  might  suppose,  therefore,  that  his 
deep  solicitude  would  omit  the  recommendation  of  no  means 
essential  to  that  oneness,  his  great  and  only  expedients  were, 
that  they  would  take  a  firmer  grasp  of  evangelical  doctrine, 
and  that  "their  hearts  might  be  knit  together  in  love." 
And  were  he  now  to  address  an  epistle  to  the  churches  of 
Britain  respecting  their  di\dded  state,  the  jDrobability  is,  that 
an  important  part  of  its  burden  would  be  the  cultivation  and 
exercise  of  that  charity  which  beareth  and  believeth,  hopeth 
and  endureth  all  things.  Oh,  if  we  would  see  the  unhappy 
divisions  of  the  Church  cemented,  let  us  try  the  virtue  of 
this  healing  principle.  Its  eye  would  discover  excellences 
in  our  brethren,  where  before  we  had  seen  nothing  but  faults 
— its  mantle  would  be  thrown  over  defects,  which  before 
had  been  exposed  to  the  sun — and  its  gentle  tongue  would 
insinuate  truths  through  the  medium  of  the  heart,  which 
mere  argument  or  evidence  could  never  induce  the  reason  to 
receive.  Were  such  a  spirit  to  prevail  amongst  us,  as  soon 
should  we  think  of  confining  our  affection  to  men  of  our  own 
stature  as  to  those  of  our  own  party — and  as  soon  should  we 
suspect  our  right  hand  of  designs  against  our  left,  as  indidge 


828         THE  UNION  OF  THE  CHUECH  FOR 

suspicions  of  eacli  other's  intention.  As  often  as  we  mingled 
in  Christian  fellowship,  we  should  feel  ourselves  drawn  closer 
to  each  other  by  coming  nearer  to  Him  who  is  the  great 
Centre  of  the  whole.  And  to  feel  that  we  are  one  in  Him 
would  serve  in  the  stead  of  a  thousand  arguments  to  promote 
l^eace,  and  be  a  surer  bond  of  lasting  union  than  a  thousand 
ino-enious  schemes  of  human  device.  Woidd  to  God  that  we 
were  Christians ! 

Again,  let  us  co-operate  with  our  brethren,  as  far  as  we 
can,  without  compromising  principle,  in  plans  of  general  use- 
fulness. How  mournful  and  disgraceful  is  the  fact,  that, 
whereas  a  few  years  ago  the  oi'igination  of  a  benevolent 
institution  on  Catholic  principles  was  the  signal  for  the  best 
men  of  all  parties  to  unite,  a  similar  pro2)osition  now  would 
be  almost  sure  to  originate  a  j^arty  measure  in  direct  opposi- 
tion !  Is  it  not  the  fact,  that  many  a  school,  association,  and 
society  has  been  set  on  foot,  not  because  it  was  felt  by  its 
originators  to  be  necessary,  but  simply  because  a  similar 
institution  had  been  projected  by  Christians  of  another  name; 
so  that  its  supporters  are  actually  held  together  by  no  sym- 
pathy of  love  for  each  other,  or  for  their  object;  but  by  sheer 
sympathy  of  hatred  to  those  other  Christians.  All  the  good 
they  intend  by  the  eifort  is  to  supersede  or  dispossess  those 
Christians;  and  should  they  succeed  in  this  object,  their  own 
institution  itself  is  probably  discontinued,  as  having  answered 
the  great  end  for  which  it  was  commenced.  Alas,  alas,  for 
the  Christian  name ! 

Still,  however,  let  us  bless  God  that  there  is  common 
ground  of  benevolent  activity,  on  which  thousands  of  Chris- 
tians of  various  names  continue  to  unite — that,  at  least,  this 
one  bond  of  their  visible  union  remains  yet  unbroken.  And 
it  is  the  growing  conviction  of  the  preacher,  that  as  this  is 
almost  the  last  ligament  which  visibly  holds  them  together, 
so  it  is  likely  to  be  the  first  and  the  princijoal  means  which 
God  will  employ  in  again  restoring  Christians  to  each  other's 
love.     Whether  He  will  compel  us  thus  to  unite  for  mere 


THE  CONVERSION  OF  THE  WORLD.  329 

self-defence  against  the  onset  of  a  world  whose  interest  we 
are  betraying  and  neglecting  by  our  divisions — or  whether  by 
an  etlusion  of  the  Sjjirit  of  love  and  zeal,  He  may  lead  ns  to 
think  more  of  the  will  of  Christ  than  of  the  claims  of  party, 
we  stay  not  to  offer  an  opinion.  But,  judging  from  the 
superior  facilities  for  union  which  plans  of  benevolent  activity 
present,  and  from  the  deepening  conviction  of  Christians,  that 
such  combination  is  made  essential  to  the  conversion  of  the 
world,  we  repeat  our  persuasion  that  benevolent  co-operation 
is  likely  to  be  the  principal  means  of  restoring  Christian 
union.  Christian,  if  you  are  active  only  luitli  a  party,  is 
there  not  reason  to  fear  that  you  are  active  only /or  a  party? 
Take  not  your  views  of  duty  from  any  mere  party  j)oint. 
Hold  yourself  free  for  the  embrace  of  great  plans  of  operation. 
Join  hearts  with  all  who  bear  the  family  likeness  of  Christ. 
Think  of  swelling  His  train ;  of  proselyting  to  His  one  Church. 
Let  your  only  contention  with  them  be,  that  of  the  vine  with 
the  olive — which  shall  bear  the  best  fruit.  Pray  for  a  blessing 
on  yourself,  and  your  own  particular  Church,  only  that  you 
may  be  made  a  blessing  to  every  part  of  the  Church,  and 
promote  the  salvation  of  the  world. 

And  this  reminds  us  that  with  all  these  means  prayer 
must  be  conjoined — united  prayer — united  prayer  expressly 
for  the  outpouring  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  The  evident  absence 
of  brotherly  love,  and  the  general  prevalence  of  estrangement 
and  dissension,  demonstrate  how  little,  how  very  little,  the 
Christians  of  different  communities  pray  for  or  with  each 
other.  How  could  we  feel  estranged  from  the  heart  which 
had  j)oured  itself  forth  before  God  in  our  behalf  ?  How  could 
we  hear  him  entreat  as  a  favour  to  be  more  closely  united 
with  us,  without  becoming  conscious  of  a  desire  to  be  more 
closely  united  to  him?  How  coidd  our  mutual  claims  and 
rights  be  disregarded,  or  any  of  the  social  graces  languish, 
among  those  who  had  thus  mingled  together  their  tenderest 
and  purest  feelings  at  the  throne  of  their  common  Father  ? 

But  not  only  are  we  to  pray  for  union,   and  to  pray  for 


830  THE  UNION  OF  THE  CHUECH  FOR 

it  socially — we  are  to  honour  the  Divnie  arrangements  by 
imploring  that  it  may  be  effected  in  His  own  appointed  way — 
by  an  eftiision  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  And  here  let  us  remember, 
that  the  divisions  of  the  Church  are  expressly  attributed  in 
Scripture  to  the  absence  of  the  Spirit;  for  of  those  who 
"separate  themselves/'  it  is  said  that  they  are  "sensual, 
having  not  the  Spirit/'  Wherever  their  re-union  is  pre- 
figured or  jn'omised  in  Scripture,  it  is  represented  as  the 
direct  result  of  a  Divine  influence  ;  if  bone  came  to  his  bone 
in  the  valley  of  vision,  it  was  because  the  Spirit  came  in 
answer  to  j)rayer,  and  breathed  on  them.  He  is  in  the 
Church  expressly  to  unite  its  members  in  one ;  for  "  there  is 
one  body,  and  one  Spirit ;  and  there  is  only  one  body, 
because  there  is  only  one  Spirit.  He  first  converts  men 
to  one  way,  that  He  may  then  unite  them  in  one  heart,  in 
order  to  exhibit  and*  employ  them  in  one  body,  which  He 
shall  animate  and  inhabit  as  the  one  soul  of  the  "whole. 
Whence  it  follows  that  we  are  to  seek  the  union  of  the 
Church,  not  only  by  the  Spirit,  hwt  for  the  Spirit;  that  union 
is  not  to  be  regarded  as  an  end,  but  only  as  a  means  to 
a  further  end.  As  the  Spirit  of  light.  He  would  illuminate 
our  judgments,  and  make  us  one  in  the  belief  of  fundamental 
truth ;  as  the  Spirit  of  love,  He  Vv'Ould  render  a  oneness  in 
more  than  fundamental  truth  unnecessary ;  and  then,  as  the 
Spirit  of  life.  He  would  actuate  the  entire  body  of  the  faith- 
ful in  one  undivided  effort  for  the  glory  of  God,  and  speedily 
give  the  world  to  its  instrumentality  ! 

Oh,  had  we  an  adequate  impression  of  the  value  of 
union,  we  should  feel  that  the  collected  and  united  prayers 
of  the  whole  Christian  world  would  not  be  equal  to 
the  magnitude  of  the  blessing,  or  to  the  ardour  of  our 
desires  after  it.  If  we  knew  the  might  of  united  prayer, 
we  should  pant  to  behold  a  convocation  of  all  the  Churches 
of  Christendom,  in  the  persons  of  .their  ministers  and 
representatives,  j^i^O'^^i^i'^^^te  in  the  fervour  of  believing  and 
importunate  suj)j)lication.      If  we  knew  hov/  complacently 


THE  CONYEliiSlOl^  OF  THE  AYOELD.  331 

God,  from  tlie  throne  of  His  glory,  would  look  down  on 
such  a  scene,  or  even  on  the  least  apj)roximation  to  it — 
how  emphatically  the  Blessed  Spirit  is  appointed  to  honour 
it  before  the  eyes  of  the  universe — ^liow  full  the  heavens  are 
at  this  moment  of  His  waiting  influence — how  inevitably  the 
salvation  of  a  ruined  world  would  ensue — could  we  stand 
aloof  from  each  other  any  longer  ?  A  voice  would  go  forth 
from  every  section  of  the  Christian  community,  saying,  in 
brotherly,  burning  accents,  "  Come,  and  let  us  go  speedily  to 
pray  before  the  Lord. "  The  universal  Church,  like  "  the 
city  of  the  E2:)hesians,"  in  reference  to  "  the  great  goddess 
Diana/'  would  become  one  worshipper,  so  completely  would 
all  their  souls  be  turned  into  desire,  and  all  tliat  desire  flow 
in  one  channel,  for  the  gifc  of  the  great  Uniting  Spirit. 
From  such  a  scene  Christ  could  not  be  absent.  There  would 
He  be  in  the  midst  of  them.  There  would  He  be  to  breathe 
on  them,  and  say,  "  Receive  ye  the  Holy  Ghost."  By  one 
and  the  same  act,  tlieij  would  receive  the  crowning  gift  of 
the  Christian  dispensation,  and  He  the  fiiliilment  of  His 
final  prayer — for  they  all  would  be  one. 

In  addition  to  all  these  means  of  promoting  Christian 
union,  or  rather  with  a  view  of  bringing  them  into  operation, 
the  apostle  would  enjoin  it  on  all  ministers  of  the  Gospel  to 
look  on  themselves  as  the  appointed  peacemakers  of  the 
Christian  Church.  How  anxiously  does  He  remind  a  Timothy 
and  a  Titus  that  it  is  the  office  of  the  ministry,  partly  to 
warn  the  Church  against  divisions — to  rebuke  its  self-willed 
and  contentious  troublers — to  soothe  its  feverish  throbbings 
with  the  healing  hand  of  love!  They  are,  indeed,  to  maintain 
the  truth;  but  they  are  to  be  seen  speaking,  or,  literally, 
"  maintaining  the  truth  in  love  " — ^not  mixing  up  their  own 
imhallowed  j^assions  with  it,  and  calling  it  zeal  for  God;  but 
maintaining  it  in  a  spirit  which  shall  win  esteem,  instead  of 
alienating  it.  Let  them  follow  the  example  of  the  apostle 
Paul  in  Mh  ministry — preaching  Christ  cnicifxcd — glorying 
in  it  as    a   ministry   of   reconciliation — an   institution   for 


So2  THE  UNION  OF  THE  CHUECH  FOE 

restoring  men  to  Gocl,  and  to  each  otlier  in  Him.  Let  tliem 
copy  liini  in  his  epistolary  correspondence ;  and  what  were 
his  letters  to  the  Churches,  but  proclamations  of  peace — 
edicts  from  the  throne  of  love — commanding  Christians,  as 
they  valued  the  royal  favour  of  the  King  of  Saints,  and 
hoj^ed  for  a  cro-\vn  above,  to  love  one  another?  Let  them 
imitate  him  in  his  healing  conduct  towards  those  whose 
differences  are  only  circumstantial,  by  sending  them  together 
to  gaze  at  the  Cross — by  habitually  exhibiting  and  exalting 
Christ  before  their  eyes,  as  their  commo;ti  centre,  and  tlieir 
only  hope;  remembering  that  little  things  occuj)y  the  atten- 
tion only  owing  to  the  absence  of  great  ones — that  "  our 
Church''  is  a  little  thing,  compared  with  our  Lord — and 
"  our  denomination "  a  trifle,  compared  with  our  common 
salvation;  that  if  those  they  address  are  saved,  they  will  be 
saved,  not  as  Baptists,  Independents,  or  Episcopalians,  but 
as  Christians — not  as  members  of  a  particular  Church,  but 
as  belonging  to  the  Church  universal.  Let  them  copy  him 
in  his  magnanimity  towards  Ms  schismatic  rivals;  rejoicing 
that  Christ  is  preached  by  them,  though  from  envy  and  strife 
— offering  to  co-operate,  and  actually  assisting,  in  every 
endeavour  calculated  to  enlarge  the  kingdom  of  Christ — and, 
instead  of  eyeing  the  prosperity  of  other  Churches  askance, 
while  all  heaven  is  rejoicing  at  it,  sympathizing  in  that 
prosperity,  and  thus  making  it  their  own.  Let  them  imitate 
his  prayers,  wrestling  with  God  in  private  for  the  peace  and 
unity  of  His  Church — deploring,  in  2)U-hlic,  the  existence  of 
so  many  barriers  to  the  free  and  general  communion  of  the 
Church — confessing  its  divisions  as  its  scarlet  sin — admonish- 
ing their  people  to  pray  for  the  impartation  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  as  the  only  and  infallible  remedy,  and  taking  every 
opportunity  of  associating  with  the  ministers  of  other  deno- 
minations in  acts  of  united  prayer  for  a  united  Church; 
remembering  that  the  Great  Intercessor  above  prays  not  for 
a  party — that  the  names  of  all  the  tribes  are  engraven  on 
His  breastplate — and  that  those  prayers  arc  likely  to  be  the 


THE  CONVEEBIOlN  OF  THE  W(JRLD.  333 

most  successful  which  most  nearly  resemble  His  o^vn.  And 
let  them  copy  the  apostle's  example  in  often  dwelling  them- 
selves on  the  final  union  of  the  whole  Church,  and  leading 
their  people  to  the  contemplation  of  the  same  stupendous 
scene — picturing  before  their  eyes  the  glories  of  that  day, 
when  every  party  appellation  will  be  forgotten  or  lost  in  the 
great  Christian  name,  when  they  all  shall  be  visibly  one 
in  Him.  Oh,  how  natural  would  a  spirit  of  conciliation 
become  after  gazing  on  such  a  scene !  As  if  v/e  had  come 
down  from  witnessing  the  harmony  of  heaven — from  seeing 
those  v^^lio  once  differed  here  bowing  together  before  the 
vision  of  God  and  of  the  •  Lamb — how  trifxing  our  necessary 
concessions  would  appear,  how  certainly  our  union  begin! 
Let  them  do  this,  and  diey  shall  be  called  "  the  repairers  of 
the  breach,  the  restorers  of  paths  to  dv/ ell  in/' 

VL 

What,  then,  sixthly,  are  the  motives  which  should  induce 
us  to  unite  ?  They  are  so  cogent,  that  the  least  of  them  all  is 
infinitely  greater  than  all  the  reasons  which  can  be  adduced 
against  it — so  7nany  and  various,  that  no  single  mind  can 
collect  and  combine  them — so  affecting  and  weighti/,  that, 
although  the  wisest  and  the  holiest  men  have  in  all  ages 
united  to  enforce  them  with  tears  and  entreaties,  they  never 
have  had,  never  can  have,  full  justice  done  to  them — so  sacred, 
that  their  seat  is  in  the  bosom  of  God — so  mst,  that  they 
measure  with  the  universe ;  and  so  deeply  laid  in  the  j^urposes 
of  God,  that  the  great  object  of  the  advent  itself — the  salva- 
tion of  the  world— is  suspended  on  their  taking  effect. 
•  What,  for  instance,  was  the  design  of  the  whole  Gospel 
economy?  The  angels  who  heralded  the  incarnation  of 
Christ,  announced  that  its  object  was,  "Peace  on  earth,  good 
will  towards  men/'  And  shall  Christians — the  intended 
peace-makers  of  the  w^orld — so  far  from  fulfilling  their  office, 
be  unable  to  settle  the  preliminaries  of  even  a  truce  among 
themselves  ?     Is  not  every  inspired  injunction  of  mutual  for- 


334         THE  UNION  OF  THE  CHUECH  FOR 

bearance  among  Christians  a  scriptural  argument  for  tlie 
unity  of  the  Church  ?  And  shall  they  who  are  commanded 
to  love  even  their  enemies,  shew  that  they  have  not  Chris- 
tianity enough  to  hear  with  their  friends  ?  Shall  they  whose 
religion  requires  them  to  pray  for  their  persecutors,  shew  that 
that  they  have  not  religion  enough  even  to  pray  mtli  their 
brethren  of  another  denomination  ?  Is  this  to  "  forbear  one 
another  in  love  V  Has  not  Christ  himself  laid  His  new  com- 
mand on  us,  that  we  love  one  another  ?  and  proposed  His  own 
example  as  the  pattern  of  our  love,  "As  I  have  loved  you, 
that  ye  love  one  another?''  intimating  at  once  how  rich  it 
should  be  in  its  fruits,  and  how  ample  in  its  embrace ;  and 
did  He  not  wait  till  the  cross  was  in  view  before  He  enacted 
it,  thus  making  it  peculiarly  the  law  of  Calvary?  Oh,  if 
Christians  did  but  remember  that  they  cannot  turn  away 
from  each  other  without  turning  their  backs  on  their  dying 
Lord — ^without  rudely  violating  the  only  new  command  which 
His  lips  of  love  ever  uttered — ^without  sullenly  disregarding 
a  request  which  came  forth  with  His  blood — ^with  what 
mutual  concessions  would  they  api^roach  each  other  and 
embrace  !  "  Beloved,  if  God  so  loved  us,  we  ought  also  to 
love  one  another  !"  How  agreeable  would  our  unity  be  to 
the  Blessed  Trinity  in  unity !  Hence  our  Saviour  prayed, 
"  That  they  all  might  be  one;  as  Thou,  Father,  art  in  me,  and  I 
in  Thee,  that  they  also  may  be  one  in  us/'  How  suitable,  I 
say,  that  those  who  have  to  ascribe  their  salvation  to  a  plan 
in  which  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Spirit  have 
united  their  infinite  perfections,  should  themselves  unite  in 
a  community  of  active  love !  And  how  supremely  agreeable 
to  the  Blessed  Trinity,  looking  down  from  the  throne  of 
infinite  glory,  to  behold  the  image  oi  their  own  inefi'able 
union  reflected  back  in  the  intimate  aiid  indissoluble  oneness 
of  the  Christian  Church  ! 

How  eminently  would  our  union  tend  to  enlighten  and 
harmonize  our  views  on  those  points  which  are  now  the 
sources  of  division !     How  greatly  would  it  promote  the 


THE  CONVEESION  OF  THE  WOELD.  335 

piety  of  the  Churcli !  Having  put  away  the  toys  and  trifles 
which  now  engage  our  attention,  and  occasion  our  disputes, 
we  should  feel  with  much  greater  force  than  ever  the  influ- 
ence of  high  motives — we  should  be  thrown  directly  on  all 
that  is  vast,  ennobling,  and  pure,  in  the  objects  of  our  faith. 
Breath  now  wasted  in  controversy  would  then  be  turned  into 
the  incense  of  prayer.  Christian  intercourse  w^ould  then  be, 
what  it  ever  should  have  been,  a  religious  ordinance — an 
exercise  of  mutual  benevolence — a  channel  of  grace.  And  the 
only  spirit  invoked  in  the  Church  w^ould  be  the  Spirit  of  grace. 
In  a  variety  of  ways  the  union  of  Christians  would  gTcatly 
increase  their  cajmcity  for  usefulness.  Union  is  strength  : 
a  city,  or  a  kingdom,  becomes  powerfid  in  proportion  as  its 
parts  act  in  concert ;  and  so  is  it  with  the  Christian  Church. 
Talent  wdiich  is  now"  consuming  itself  in  the  flames  of  angry 
controversy,  would  then  be  sanctified  and  set  at  liberty  for  a 
holier  office.  Zeal  would  come  from  one  part  of  the  Church 
to  be  directed  by  wisdom  from  another  part.  Eesources 
which,  divided,  are  not  equal  to  the  religious  cultivation  of  a 
country,  would,  wdien  united,  be  equal  to  an  attempt  on  a  con- 
tinent. And  having  made  the  attempt,  instead  of  fearing  in 
every  Christian  stranger  that  aj^proached  our  sj^here  of  lab  Om- 
an agent  from  a  rival  Church,  deputed  to  supplant  us,  we 
should  view  him  as  a  reinforcement  of  our  spiritual  strength, 
and  hail  him  as  a  brother  beloved.  But  especially  would 
union  increase  their  capacity  for  usefulness,  by  increasing 
their  capacity  for  the  reception  and  operation  of  that  Holy 
Spirit  luho  alone  can  croiun  their  activity  with  success.  In 
order  that  the  slain  in  the  vaUey  of  vision  might  become  an 
efficient  body,  it  was  necessary  that  bone  should  come  to  his 
bone — that  life  should  enter  into  each  body  separately — that 
they  should  fall  into  order,  with  a  view  to  the  union  and 
organization  of  the  whole — and  then,  as  "  an  exceeding  great 
army,''  a  skilfid  leader  alone  was  wanting  to  lead  them  forth 
to  universal  conquest.  Let  Christians  unite — let  them  form 
an  organized  body,  which  the  Spirit  can  animate  as  the  soul 


336         THE  UNION  OF  THE  CHUECH  FOR  ^ 

of  tlie  Cliurcli,  and  He  will  lead  tliem  fortli  to  conquest, 
terrible  as  an  army  witli  banners. 

Siicli  a  union  could  not  fail  to  strike  tlie  world  with  awe. 
Wlietlier  it  were  announced  by  a  jDublic  manifesto  from  tlie 
united  Cliurclies  or  not,  so  remarkable  an  event  could  not  ftiil 
to  arrest  the  j^ublic  attention.  To  see  Christians,  who  had 
long  been  separated,  merging  their  differences  and  sacrificing 
their  predilections,  for  the  sole  object  of  diffusing  their  com- 
mon faith,  could  not  fail  to  conciliate  the  prejudiced,  to  con- 
found the  caviller,  and  to  bring  more  honour  on  religion  than 
it  has  received  since  the  days  of  the  martyrs. 

But  not  merely  would  it  arrest  the  j^ublic  eye,  it  would 
assail  and  affect  the  public  heart.  The  v/orld  would  not  be 
left  long  to  speculate  and  wonder  about  it.  They  would  find 
that  the  Church  had  united  for  an  object — that  that  object 
was  themselves — that  they  were  assailed  on  all  sides  by  the 
united  and  irresistible  forces  ol  love.  The  Spirit  himself 
would  be  the  leader  of  the  Christian  hosts — His  sword,  the 
weapon  they  employed — His  inspiration  animating  them  to 
the  fight — and  His  power  crowning  them  v/ith  success. 
Scenes  c.  apostolic  triumph  would  be  witnessed  again. 
Jesus  would  see  of  the  travail  of  His  soul,  and  be  satisfied 
— ^for  manldnd,  convinced  that  such  a  union  of  love  in  a 
selfish  world  could  only  be  resolved  into  a  heavenly  cause, 
would  believe  at  length  that  God  had  sent  Him,  and  would 
gratefully  capitulate  to  His  offered  grace.  From  all  this 
would  necessarily  result  a  vast  accession  to  our  happiness. 
Haj^py,  indeed,  we  may  now  be  comparatively  in  the  favour 
of  God;  but  how  much  happier  shall  we  then  be  in  the 
superadded  favour  of  all  His  people — for  in  their  sympathy 
we  should  find  the  reflection  of  His  smiles,  and  an  additional 
channel  in  which  His  love  might  flow;  to  tlie  joys  of  inter- 
nal communion  would  be  added  those  of  external  triumph. 
Our  joy  would  be  the  joy  of  harvest — a  harvest  of  immortal 
souls  gathered  in  to  Christ — the  joy  which  angels  feel  over 
one  repenting  sinner,  multiplied  by  the  numbers  which  would 


'      THE  CONVERSION  OF  THE  WORLD.  337 

then  be  added  to  the  Church  daily — tlie  joy  of  Christ  him- 
self, for  in  His  satisfaction  and  glory  we  shonld  find  our 
own.  Of  such  a  Church,  God  himself  would  not  be  ashamed. 
Answering  as  it  would  to  His  great  idea.  He  would  pro- 
nounce it  good.  He  would  rejoice  over  it  with  singing.  In 
the  light  of  His  countenance  its  millennial  day  would  begin. 
Nothing  that  could  augment  its  prosperity  would  be  with- 
held. No  gift  that  could  enrich  it — no  honour  that  could 
distinguish  it  in  the  eyes'  of  the  world  would  be  deemed  too 
costly  to  confer.  A  great  voice  out  of  heaven  would  be  heard 
saying,  "  The  tabernacle  of  God  is  with  men,  and  He  will 
dwell  among  them.'' 

And  is  it  of  all  this  that  our  divisions  are  depriving  us? 
They  are  depriving  us  of  more — of  all  that  hap2:)iness  which 
the  fruits  of  our  union  would  produce  in  the  final  judgment 
and  in  eternity !  Yes,  they  are  casting  their  shadows  forwards 
into  eternity !  They  are  not  only  impairing  our  usefulness 
now,  but,  in  consequence,  they  are  dimming  the  radiance  of 
the  crowns  to  be  assigned  us  then !  And  for  what '?  Who 
is  to  be  the  gainer?  What  is  the  compensation?  Which  is 
the  party  benefited?  Assemble  the  Church,  and  inquire. 
Surely,  if  any  advantage  is  ever  to  accrue,  it  must  by  this 
time  have  appeared.  Fifteen  hundred  years  have  been 
allowed  the  Church  to  try  the  virtues  of  division.  Summon 
the  Church,  and  ascertain  what  these  virtues  are.  Alas! 
some  of  its  members  are  too  deeply  embroiled  with  each 
other  to  heed  the  call.  And  of  those  that  do,  some  refuse 
to  approach,  lest  they  should  come  into  too  familiar  contact 
with  the  Christians  of  other  denominations.  And  is  this 
the  religion  of  love?  Are  these  the  descendants  of  the  men 
who  were  so  lavish  of  their  affections  and  then-  lives,  that 
hostility  itself  was  often  disarmed,  and  their  enemies  turned 
into  champions  and  friends?  Is  this  the  Church  which  was 
to  make  the  circuit  and  conquest  of  the  world,  gathering  up 
trophies  at  every  step,  and  returning  at  length  laden  with 
many  crowns  for  Him  who  had  caused  her  to  triumph  in 

Y 


338         THE  UNION  OF  THE  CHUECH  FOE  * 

every  place?  Alas!  how  often,  and  to  what  a  wide  extent 
has  she  herself  been  worsted  and  disgraced !  Is  this  the  body 
which  was  to  be  made  one  by  the  inhabiting  and  all-jDervading 
Spirit,  and  of  whose  unity  the  most  intimate  and  compacted 
objects  in  nature  were  considered  the  most  appropriate 
emblems?  Alas!  the  body  is  so  dislocated,  dismembered, 
and  mangled,  that  it  has  become  another  valley  of  dry  bones 
— and  another  resurrection  is  alone  adequate  to  its  condition. 
And  was  it  for  this  that  divinity 'and  humanity  met  in  the 
person  of  the  Son  of  God?  Was  it  for  this  He  bowed  His 
head  upon  the  cross,  to  shew  that  God  is  love?  Was  it  for 
this  He  instituted  a  Church — prayed  for  its  miity — endowed 
it  with  His  Spirit,  and  gave  to  it  the  world  as  the  scene  of 
its  triumphs?  Our  hearts  feel  that  it  was  not.  The  sighs 
of  numbers  mourning  in  secret  over  the  blighted  peace,  the 
prostrate  energy,  the  humbled  honour  of  the  Church,  assure 
us  that  it  was  not.  All  the  unreclaimed,  neglected,  perishing 
parts  of  the  world  protest  that  it  was  not.  Shame,  equal 
shame  on  the  Jews  who  crucified  the  Son  of  God,  and  on 
Christians  who,  in  the  person  of  His  members,  are  still 
crucifying  Him  afresh,  and  putting  Him  to  an  open  shame. 
Blessed  Saviour !  we  need  that  Thou  shouldest  offer  for  us  the 
prayer  which  Thou  didst  for  Thy  murderers,  "  Father,  forgive 
them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do.'' 

Christians,  was  the  apostle  too  passionate  in  his  entreaty  of 
the  Corinthians,  when  he  besought  them,  for  Christ's  sake, 
to  heal  their  divisions  ?  Supposing  he  foresaw  only  a  mil- 
lionth part  of  the  evils  which  would  spring  from  disunion, 
was  he  disproportionately  concerned  when  he  endured  an 
agony  of  solicitude  for  the  peace  of  the  Church  at  Colosse  ? 
Would  an  entreaty  less  moving,  or  a  concern  less  profound 
have  suited  the  magnitude  of  the  occasion  ?  Where,  then,  is 
the  anguish  which  would  equal  the  divisions  of  the  Church 
now'?  Brethren,  there  is  not  an  object  in  creation  which 
does  not  sympathize  in  his  solicitude  for  our  peace ;  there  is 
not  a  holy  intelligence  in  the  universe  which  does  not  join  in 


THE  CONVERSION  OF  THE  WOELD.         839 

an  entreaty,  urging  us,  for  Christ's  sake,  to  unite  and  be  one. 
They  are  all  interested  in  it — from  Him  who  sits  upon  the 
throne — through  all  the  circles  of  the  blessed — and  down 
through  every  rank  of  this  lower  creation,  groaning  and  wait- 
ing to  be  delivered — all  have  a  momentous  stake  in  the  union 
of  the  Church,  and  entreat  us,  for  Christ's  sake,  to  be  one. 

Christians,  you  are  not  insensible  to  sights  of  suffering — 
you  could  not  look  on  a  bleeding  human  form  without 
emotion.  See,  then,  that  majestic  but  lacerated  form  which 
comes  before  us — it  is  the  mangled  form  of  Divine  Chris- 
tianity— her  garments  torn,  her  person  womided,  and  life 
streaming  out  at  every  wound.  And  as  she  turns  on  us  a 
mournful  and  imploring  aspect,  each  of  these  wounds  entreats 
us  to  unite.  Shall  we  stanch  them,  or  shall  we  answer  by 
the  infliction  of  fresh  wounds?  Before  she  quits  our  presence, 
a  voice  from  afar  comes  j^ealing  on  our  ear — the  cry  of  the 
superstitious,  seeking  ease  of  mind  in  self-inflicted  torture  of 
body — of  the  conscience-stricken  idolater,  asking  if  there  be  a 
Savioiu"  from  despair — of  the  dying  on  the  shores  of  eternity, 
asking,  but  asking  in  vain,  of  the  dark  unknown  before  them, 
— all  combining  and  beseeching  us  to  unite  and  hasten  to 
their  relief  In  aid  of  their  entreaty  comes  a  voice  from  the 
past — not  merely  from  the  depths  of  dungeons,  the  flames  of 
martyrs,  and  the  ruins  of  Christian  temples — a  sound  of 
more  solemn  and  appalling  imjiort — the  voice  of  the  myriads 
who,  through  the  divisions  and  neglect  of  the  Cliurch,  have 
gone  down  to  final  destruction — entreating  us  to  imite  and 
to  send  unto  their  brethren,  lest  they  also  come  to  the  place 
of  torment.  And  shall  all  these  entreaties  be  made  to  us  in 
vain?  But  above  and  beyond  them  all,  a  voice  may  be  heard 
whose  every  accent  should  thrill  through  the  universal  Chm-ch 
— it  is  the  voice  of  the  great  Intercessor  within  the  veil,  still 
praying,  still  j^leading,  "  that  they  aU  might  be  one.''  And 
shall  He  pray  thus  alone?-  Will  not  His  peoj^le  join  Him? 
Shall  not  Church  after  Church  unite  in  the  prayer,  till  the 
entire  body  of  believers  have  joined  Him  ?     Oh,  haj)py  day  for 


340         THE  UNION  OF  THE  CHURCH,  ETC. 

eartli — the  first  of  the  millennium !  And  happy  clay  for  heaven 
— the  first  of  a  millennium  there ;  for  the  union  of  Christians 
on  earth  would  be  the  glory  of  the  blessed  in  heaven ! 

Christian !  you  can  assist  to  hasten  it  on.  Your  duty  is 
clear,  definite,  imperative.  You  are  to  become  an  agent,  and 
an  element  of  Clmstian  unity.  The  Church  is  divided; 
resolve  in  the  strength  of  God  that,  as  far  as  you  are  con- 
cerned, it  shall  not  remain  so — that,  if  it  does,  it  shall  not 
be  your  fault.  Christ  is  intercedhig  for  its  unity;  resolve 
that  you  wiU  daily  join  Him  in  the . entreaty.  Souls  are 
ruined — the  world  is  perishing  through  its  divisions,  and  yet 
on  it  will  go  for  a  time  trying  to  save  them  by  its  divided 
efforts — labouring  to  succeed  without  uniting.  But  no, 
never;  the  plan  is  fixed  by  Him  who  changeth  not — the 
unity  of  the  Church  must  jorecede  the  salvation  of  the  world. 
Publish  it  abroad.  Be  assured  that  those  Christians  who 
differ  most,  are  all  one  on  this  subject — they  deske  to  save 
their  fellow-men.  So  that  never  can  you  insist  on  this 
ground  for  union,  without  touching  a  chord  which  vibrates 
through  all  their  hearts  alike.  Resolve,  therefore,  to  keep 
this  motive  to  union  in  view  yourself,  and  to  insist  on  it  to 
others — that  the  visible  union  of  Christians  must  precede  the 
conversion  of  the  world,  for  it  is  the  appointed  means  by 
which  it  is  to  take  place.  Their  eventual  union,  remember, 
is  certain ;  and  oh,  the  glorious  results  of  that  union  what 
tongue  can  tell !  A  triumphant  Church — a  converted  world 
— a  glorified  Redeemer — a  rejoicing  universe!  But  eye 
hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  nor  heart  imagined  its  glories  1 
Enjoy  it  now  by  anticipation.  Let  it  be  the  joy  set  before 
you  as  it  was  before  your  Lord,  and  you  will  account  no 
labour  too  great,  no  sacrifice  too  costly,  that  can  hasten  its 
arrival  even  by  a  moment.  Act  now,  as  you  will  wish  ten 
thousand  ages  hence  you  had  acted;  and  from  this  day  you 
will  seek  to  unite  the  Church  for  the  conversion  of  the  world, 
and  myriads  of  ages  hence  you  will  be  still  blessing  God  that 
you  did  so. 


PKAYEE  FOR  CHIIIST.  34j1 


SEKMON  XV. 

PEAYER  FOR  CHRIST. 

Psalm  Ixxii.  15 — "And  he  shall  live;  and  to  him  shall  be  given  of  the  gold 
of  Sheba :  prayer  also  shall  be  made  for  him  continuall}' ;  and  daily 
shall  he  be  praised." 

David,  having  received  certain  premonitions  of  his  aj)proach- 
ing  end,  had  now  resigned  the  throne  of  Israel  to  Solomon, 
his  son.     The  elders  and  nobles  of  the  land  had  recoonized 

o 

and  accepted  the  change.  Transported  with  joy  at  the  event, 
he  pours  out  his  soul  in  prayer  for  the  youthful  king  and  the 
subject  people.  But,  behold,  a  Greater  than  Solomon  is 
here !  Eapt  in  a  Divine  enthusiasm,  the  Psalmist  ascends  to 
a  loftier  theme,  and  sings  the  glory  of  Messiah,  and  the 
magnificence  of  His  future  reign. 

I. 

The  text  is  a  prediction ;  reminding  us.  in  the  first  place, 
that  the  Bible  is  distinguished  from  every  other  book,  pro- 
fessedly Divine,  by  the  gTandeur  and  the  authoritative  tone 
of  its  promises,  and  by  the  multitude  and  splendour  of  its 
predictions.  Hmnan  philosophy  may  be  said  to  have  had 
three  creeds;  which  might  not  improperly  be  distinguished 
as  the  creed  of  the  past,  of  the  present,  and  of  the  future. 
The  books  of  Pagan  antiquity  sung  only  of  the  golden-aged 
past — of  scenes  of  pastoral  simplicity  and  happiness  never 
to  return;  while,  for  the  future,  they  could  say  nothing— 
their  burden  was  despair.     Then  came  the  creed  of  the  pre- 


342  PEAYEK  FOR  CHEIST. 

sent.  As  early  antiquity  faded  from  view,  man  became 
prepared  for  the  philosophy  of  Epicurus — for  the  optimism 
wliich  professes  to  be  satisfied  with  things  as  they  are;  and 
which,  instead  of  aiming  at  human  imj^rovement,  acts  on  the 
animal  maxim,  "  Let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die." 
But  to  this  has  now  generally  succeeded  the  creed  of  the 
future — a  philosojDhical  belief  in  the  perfectibility  of  the 
species — a  persuasion  that  man  is,  at  length,  on  the  high 
road  to  perfection. 

Now,  it  would  be  easy  to  shew  that  each  of  these  views  is 
only  a  perversion  of  some  fundamental  truth  contained  in 
the  Bible.  But,  then,  it  will  be  found,  that  in  the  Bible 
those  truths  exist  in  combination,  and  that  everything  which 
is  there  said  of  the  past,  or  of  the  present,  is  said  expressly 
for  the  sake  of  the  future.  Thus,  the  contentment  with  the 
present  which  it  inculcates  is  not  that  kind  of  satisfaction 
which  hopes  and  asks  for  nothing  better,  but  that  which 
springs  from  a  comprehensive  view  of  the  Divine  plans  for 
the  renovation  of  the  world;  which  admires  those  plans  as 
the  wisest  and  the  best;  and  which  thus  prepares  us  to 
become  patient  and  persevering  instruments  in  the  hands 
of  God  for  their  fulfilment.  Then,  again,  if  the  Bible  tells 
of  the  past — if  it  sings  of  a  Paradise  lost — it  is  only  to  pre- 
pare us  to  hear  of  a  better  Paradise  regained.  Yes;  the 
Bible  is  the  true  prophet  of  hope ;  it  builds  on  the  future, 
and  the  chorus  of  all  its  songs  is  of  a  glory  yet  to  come. 

But  if — it  may  be  said — if  human  philosophy  is  beginning 
to  calculate  on  the  future,  it  is  at  length  moving  in  harmony 
with  the  Word  of  God.  This,  alas!  is  but  very  partially 
true.  The  Church  and  the  world  are  indeed  looking  in  the 
same  direction,  but  far  different  is  the  result  they  aim  at; 
and,  as  to  the  means  on  which  they  chiefly  rely,  they  essen- 
tially disagree. 

II. 

For,  secondly,  the  text  reminds  us  that  one  of  the  means 


PRAYER  FOR  CHRIST.  343 

wliicli  the  Church  is  to  employ  for  the  attainment  of  the 
desired  result  is  iwayer.  Now,  here  we  are  at  issue  with  a 
sceptical  philosophy  at  the  very  outset.  For  while  that 
philosophy  would  object  to  prayer  as  inconsistent  with  the 
doctrine  of  the  Divine  unchangeableness,  lue  not  only  employ 
it,  but  rely  on  it;  we  even  rely  on  it  in  the  order  of  means 
as  the  first ;  and,  according  to  the  text,  we  are  to  employ  it 
continually — never  to  allow  the  instrument  to  pass  out  of 
our  hands  for  a  moment. 

We  do  not  say  that  prayer  has  any  inherent  efficacy  to 
move  God :  like  every  other  means — like  the  food  we  eat — it 
derives  its  efficacy  from  the  sovereign  appointment  of  God. 
But  we  do  say,  that  prayer  is  a  condition  on  which  it  seems 
good  to  God  to  put  forth  His  power.  We  do  say,  that  we 
can  conceive  of  certain  reasons  which  may  make  it  agreeable 
to  Perfect  Wisdom  to  grant  that  to  prayer,  which  it  may  not 
seem  agreeable  to  grant  in  the  absence  of  prayer.  And, 
beyond  this,  we  would  remind  the  objector  that,  clearly  as 
the  law  of  the  Divine  unchangeableness  may  be  revealed  in 
the  Bible — and  it  is  only  from  the  Bible  that  he  can  have 
learned  it — the  law  that  prayer  prevails  with  God  is  revealed, 
if  possible,  more  clearly  and  convincingly  still.  So  that  tlie 
question  comes  to  this : — Will  he  wisely  embrace  both  these 
laws,  and  confidently  leave  it  to  God  to  reconcile  them  with 
His  own  Divine  consistency?  or,  if  he  adoj^ts  but  one, 
which  will  he  prefer? — the  less  obvious  law — that  which 
relates  to  the  unfathomable  nature  of  God? — or  the  more 
plain  and  simple  law,  made  in  love  to  man — that  which 
includes  the  sacred  duty  and  the  ennobling  privilege  of 
prayer  ?  At  all  events,  while  he  is  engaged  in  a  philosophic 
endeavour  to  reconcile  prayer  with  his  imperfect  views  of  the 
Divine  consistency,  he  will  allow  us  to  be  occujned  in  admi- 
ration of  that  Divine  condescension,  which  has  made  it  both 
natui'al  for  man  to  pray,  and  certain  that  scriptural  jDrayer 
shall  be  crowned  with  success.  Yes ;  we  would  remind  him, 
that  disordered  and  ruined  as  our  nature  is,  there  are  clear 


344}  PEAYER  FOR  CHRIST. 

indications  still  tliat  man  was  originally  made  to  pray.  For 
even  they  who  have  practically  renoimced  religion — who 
have  lived  in  the  entire  neglect  of  all  the  various  modes  by 
which  man  approaches  and  adores  his  Maker — even  they,  in 
the  moment  of  danger  or  suffering,  are  generally  foimd  to 
call  involuntarily  on  God  for  help.  The  voice  of  nature,  at 
such  times,  will  speak  out — will  not  allow  itself  to  be 
smothered  and  silenced  any  longer — -will  cause  itself  to  be 
heard.  Overpowering  those  prejudices  and  th^^t  uTcligion 
which  had  hitherto  repressed  it,  it  wiU  lift  icself  up,  assert 
the  presence,  the  power,  and  the  goochiess  of  God,  and 
earnestly  invoke  His  favourable  interposition. 

And  we  would  remind  him  also  i^hat  the  prayer  of  faith 
invariably  succeeds.  If  his  philosophy  be  sound,  he  will 
surely  yield  to  the  power  of  fects  ;  and  if  facts  can  convince 
him,  the  Bible  abounds  with  undeniable  examples  of  successful 
prayer.  "Every  one  that  asketh,  receiveth,''  saith  Christ;  as 
if  He  had  said,  "  Prayer  has  all  the  certainty  and  universality 
of  a  law — a  law  which  can  never  know  an  exception ;  every 
one  that  asketh  receiveth.''  My  brethren,  in  the  whole 
compass  of  divinely-appointed  means,  prayer  occupies  the 
highest  place,  and  possesses  the  mightiest  efficacy.  And 
why?  It  passes  by  all  secondary  means,  and  makes  its  way 
straight  to  God;  it  puts  aside  every  human  hand,  and  goes 
at  once  to  the  arm  of  God ;  enters  the  presence  of  the  Eternal, 
and  makes  its  appeal  to  His  throne.  There  it  enables  the 
suppliant  to  take  hold  of  the  strength  of  God,  and,  in  a  sense, 
identifies  him  with  almighty  power.  Nor  is  the  efficacy  of 
prayer  confined  to  the  supj^liant  himself  It  places  him  in  a 
new  relation  to  all  around  him.  Prayer  is  an  invisible  chain 
by  which  He  can  draw  them  towards  heaven.  It  in  vests. Hun 
with  an  indefinite  power  over  the  destmy  and  haj^piaess  of 
the  world  at  large. 

\Ye  repeat,  then,  that  while  the  world  is  at  length  looking 
in  the  same  direction  as  the  Church,  far  different  are  the 
objects  they  aim  at,  and  the  principal   means  which  they 


PEAYER  FOR  CHRIST.  345 

employ.  For  while  prayer  is  the  last  instrument  which  a 
scei^tical  philosophy  would  employ,  we  not  only  employ,  but 
rely  on  it ;  and,  believing  what  we  do  of  its  power  with  God, 
we  should  be  inconsistent  and  guilty  if  we  did  not  place  it,  in 
the  order  of  means,  as  first  and  best.  And  believing  what 
we  do,  too,  of  the  utter  inefficiency  of  mere  human  means  to 
renovate  the  world,  and  of  the  power  of  prayer  to  secure  the 
omnipotent  aid  of  God,  we  cannot  help  thinking  that  the 
time  has  come  when  the  charge  of  indulging  romantic  views 
concerning  the  future  improvement  of  man  should  be 
removed  from  the  Church — where  it  has  been  so  long  and  so 
unjustly  laid — and  be  transferred  to  the  world.  Tor,  while 
the  world  is  indulging  the  visionary  hope  of  changing  the  face 
of  society  by  mere  human  agency,  the  Church  of  God,  without 
abating  a  jot  in  its  laborious  practical  efforts,  invokes  the 
almighty  aid  of  God  as  the  only  and  the  all-sufficient  source 
of  success. 

III. 

But  not  only  does  the  text  predict  a  change,  and  repre- 
sent prayer  as  a  means  of  realizing  that  change ;  it  describes 
that  prayer,  thirdly,  as  partaking  of  a  specific  character — 
as  prayer  for  Christ;  "prayer  also  shall  be  made  for  Him 
continually.'' 

But  what  are  the  claims  of  Christ  on  the  prayers  of  those 
who  are  seeking  the  happiness  of  the  v/orld?  The  propriety 
of  praying  for  the  success  of  another  dej)ends  entirely  on  the 
nature  of  his  undertaking.  Now,  the  nature  of  the  Saviour's 
undertaking  is  simply  this.  The  world  was  perishing  in 
ignorance,  guilt,  and  pollution.  To  recover  the  knowledge  of 
God,  which  it  had  lost,  a  teacher  from  heaven  was  necessary; 
to  expiate  its  guilt,  an  adequate  atonement  must  be  made; 
to  cleanse  it  from  pollution,  a  fountain  must  be  opened  for 
sin  and  for  uncleanness.  To  provide  either  of  these  requisites, 
the  world  was  as  unable  as  it  was  indisposed;  and  yet  all  oi 
them  must  be  provided,  or  man  must  everlastingly  perish. 


346  PEAYER  FOR  CHRIST. 

Filled  with  compassion  for  us,  tlioiigh  we  were  His  enemies, 
tlie  Son  of  God  descended  from  lieaven,  to  do  everything 
for  us  necessary  to  our  recovery.  To  become  our  Teacher,  He 
assumed  our  nature,  dwelt  amongst  us,  and  spake  as  never 
man  spake;  to  expiate  our  guilt,  He  died  in  our  stead;  and 
to  cleanse  us  from  the  pollution  of  sin,  He  provided  for  us 
the  agency  of  the  Divine  Spirit.  Having  made  this  ample 
provision  for  the  salvation  of  mankind,  it  now  remains  that 
the  Gospel  be  made  known,  and  be  cordially  embraced.  The 
Almighty  Father  has  promised  that,  in  reward  for  the 
mediation  of  His  well-beloved  Son,  it  shall  be  made  known 
universally,  and  effectually  applied.  "  Ask  of  me,  and  I  will 
give  thee  the  heathen  for  thine  inheritance,  and  the  uttermost 
parts  of  the  earth  for  thy  possession.''  "  He  shall  see  of  the 
travail  of  his  soul,  and  shall  be  satisfied.''  The  Saviour 
desires  to  enjoy  this  reward;  He  declares  that  He  will  draw 
all  men  unto  Him;  that  He  will  save  the  very  ends  of  the 
earth.  And  can  you  conceive  of  stronger  claims  on  our 
j)rayers  than  these? 

Did  we  consult  only  the  temporal  welfare  of  men,  the 
speediest  and  most  effectual  method  of  promotmg  even  that 
would  be  to  send  them  the  Gospel.  The  history  of  our 
missions  demonstrates  that  nothing  lifts  them  out  of  a  state 
of  barbarism  into  a  state  of  civilization  so  certainly  and  so 
completely  as  that.  It  calls  them  together,  gives  them  a 
Sabbath,  throv»^s  a  shield  over  their  property,  blesses  them 
with  liberty,  and  puts  them  under  the  protection  of  govern- 
ment and  law;  and  thus  it  lays  a  foundation  for  all  civil 
improvement  and  social  hai^piness.  But  if  we  design  to 
promote  their  spiritual  welfare,  the  Gospel  is  the  only  means. 
Here  there  can  be  no  competition — no  rival — no  question  ; 
the  Gospel  is  the  only  remedy  for  a  perishing  world.  Com- 
pared with  its  wisdom,  every  other  system  is  foolishness;  for 
it  is  the  wisdom  of  God.  Compared  with  its  power  to  sway 
the  heart,  all  other  strength  is  weakness ;  for  it  is  the  power 
of  God.     Compared  with  its  truth  and  pmity — its  majesty 


PEAYEE  FOE  CHEIST.  347 

and  grace — Moliammedanism  is  an  imposture  and  a  pollu- 
tion ;  modern  Judaism,  a  ceremony  and  a  fable ;  Paganism,  a 
falsehood  and  a  debasement;  Deism,  an  unsubstantial  sliadow ; 
and  Atheism,  a  darkness  and  a  horror,  "Lord,  to  whom 
shall  we  o-o  but  unto  thee,  for  thou  hast  the  words  of  eternal 
life!"  Yes;  "  this  is  hfe  eternal,  to  know  thee  the  only  true 
God,  and  Jesus  Christ  whom  thou  hast  sent."  This  alone 
can  ease  the  conscience  burdened  with  guilt;  cleanse  the 
heart  defiled  with  sin;  wipe  the  tear  from  the  eye  of  the 
mourner;  and  sanctify  and  conduct  the  soul  to  the  joys  of 
heaven.  But  the  Gospel  can  do  this,  for  it  is  the  revela- 
tion of  One  whose  arm  is  almighty  to  save,  and  whose 
heart  has  room  for  the  world.  Such — such,  then,  are  the 
claims  of  Christ  on  the  prayers  of  His  people.  He  is  the 
Healer  of  a  diseased  and  a  dying  world;  and  if  we  have  felt 
His  power  to  save,  He  claims  our  prayers  that  His  saving 
health  may  be  known  among  all  nations ;  that  the  healing 
influence  of  the  Gospel,  like  a  heavenly  current  of  vital  air, 
may  sweep  over  the  spiritual  sickness  of  the  world,  imparting 
life,  and  health,  and  universal  happiness.  He  is  the  Champion 
of  our  race,  who  has  espoused  our  cause  against  sin,  and 
death,  and  hell;  and  shall  not  this  be  our  ardent  prayer, 
"  Gird  thy  sword  upon  thy  thigh,  0  most  mighty,  with  thy 
glory  and  thy  majesty.  And  in  thy  majesty  ride  prosperously, 
because  of  truth,  and  meekness,  and  righteousness,  and  thy 
right  hand  shall  teach  thee  terrible  things"? 

IV. 

And  here,  in  the  fourth  place,  let  us  mark  and  admire  the 
wisdom  and  grace  of  the  arrangement  which  makes  it  our 
duty  to  seek  the  salvation  of  the  world  in  this  specific  manner 
— by  prayer  for  the  prosperity  of  the  reign  of  Christ. 

1.  There  is  wisdom  in  the  arrangement  which  makes 
missionary  success  to  depend  on  prayer  in  general.  It  brings 
us  to  the  one  spot,  and  keeps  us  in  our  only  proper  place  in 
the  universe— at  the  feet  of  God.     It  tends  to  annihilate  self 


348  PRAYER  FOR  CHRIST. 

— amounts  to  a  confession  of  our  utter  dependence — renders 
appro^Driate  homage  to  His  greatness — and  thus  keeps  us  in 
active  and  constant  communication  with  the  Fountain  of 
Grace. 

2.  But  by  calling  us  to  His  footstool  to  pray  specifically 
for  the  prosperity  of  the  reign  of  Christ,  He  is  giving  us  an 
opportunity  of  avovring  afresh  our  admiration  of  the  scheme 
of  redemption  by  Christ.  To  offer  up  such  a  prayer  is  to 
say,  in  effect,  that  we  ourselves  have  made  joroof  of  the  Cross 
of  Christ — that  we  believe  there  is  no  hope  for  the  world 
but  through  that  Cross — and  that  so  satisfied  are  we  of  its 
healing  efficacy,  that  were  all  the  world  to  feel  its  power,  all 
the  world  would  be  saved,  and  heaven  begin  on  earth.  Now, 
to  say  this  is  at  once  to  gratify  the  love  of  the  Christian, 
and  the  very  heart  of  God. 

3.  By  this  arrangement,  too,  the  supjDliant  is  afforded  the 
strongest  assurance  of  success  in  prayer.  God  is  not  unfre- 
quently  pleased  to  be  found  of  them  even  that  sought  Him 
not ;  when,  therefore,  we  do  seek  Him,  we  may  calculate  on 
His  hearing  us  with  the  utmost  certainty — but  when  we 
apply  to  Him  on  the  behalf  of  the  reign  of  Christ,  the  cer- 
tainty of  being  heard  is,  if  possible,  increased.  The  cause 
of  Christ  lies  infinitely  nearer  to  His  heart  than  it  does,  than 
it  can  do,  to  ours.  It  is  the  cause  which  His  own  compassion 
prompted,  and  His  own  wisdom  devised.  It  is  the  cause 
with  which  He  has  bound  up  His  own  glory — on  which  He 
has  lavished  the  resources  of  heaven — and  to  the  success  of 
which  He  has  pledged  every  perfection  of  His  nature.  So 
that,  in  praying  on  the  behalf  of  Christ,  the  believer  is  taking 
his  stand  on  the  immutable  covenant  of  God — he  prays  with 
the  force  of  an  Almighty  decree — he  puts  his  hand  to  the 
propulsion  of  a  cause  which  is  destined  to  move  forwards 
with  the  force  of  Omnipotence. 

4.  And  by  this  arrangement,  too,  every  believer — the 
poorest  and  the  obscurest — is  afforded  an  opj^ortunity  of 
indulgmg  his  supreme  love  to  Christ,  by  aiding  the  advance- 


PEAYEE  FOE  CHEIST.  349 

ment  of  His  kingdom.  "  To  them  that  believe  He  is  precious" 
— so  precious,  that  in  their  holiest  and  happiest  moments 
they  feel  as  if  every  mode  of  expressing  it,  which  they  at 
present  possess,  were  inadequate — as  if  they  must  wait  for 
the  perfection  of  heaven,  and  the  duration  of  eternity,  before 
they  begin.  However  ample  the  resources  we  may  now 
possess  for  shewing  our  sense  of  obligation  to  Christ,  the 
great  proportion  of  behevers  have  to  deplore  how  truly  small 
is  the  gift  they  can  lay  on  His  altar — how  little  is  the  time 
which  they  can  give  to  His  service — how  circumscribed  is  the 
influence  which  their  obscurity  of  station  permits  them  to 
exert  for  His  glory.  Christian,  the  throne  of  grace  is  open 
— open  to  you — open  to  all.  Wise  and  gracious  arrange- 
ment! "Here,"  you  may  say,  "here  I  can  gratify  my  love 
to  Christ,  and  give  a  loose  to  all  the  ardour  of  my  souL 
Poor  I  may  be  in  the  world's  account — but  here  I  can  pour 
out  at  His  feet  the  wealth  of  my  affections.  Busy  I  may  be 
in  the  service  of  ma;n — but  here  I  can  repair  in  thought  and 
desire,  and  serve  Him  continually.  And  let  my  influence 
with  man  be  as  limited  as  it  may — here  I  can  come  and 
have  power  with  God.  While  others  are  engaged  in  pleading 
for  Christ  with  men — here  I  can  plead  for  Him  with  God — 
here  I  can  vie  with  an  apostle.  While  a  Paul  is  planting, 
and  an  Apollos  is  watering — here  I  can  aid  them  both  by 
bringing  do^vn  the  increase." 

Yes,  here  all  may  assist — the  youngest  and  the  eldest,  the 
poorest  and  the  most  obscure.  To  serve  the  Church  with 
munificent  gifts  and  splendid  talents  is  not  within  the  com- 
pass of  your  power.  Nor  can  you,  perhaps,  benefit  the 
world,  by  going  forth  to  proclaim  the  Gospel — but  the  tear 
of  the  closet — the  sigh  of  sorrow  over  the  guilt  of  the  world 
— the  secret  prayer  for  the  reign  of  Christ — these  are  within 
your  scojoe,  and  these  are  the  elements  of  missionary  success. 
By  these  you  can  touch  the  spring  and  source  of  all  motion 
— and  on  that  depends  the  final  realization  of  our  lio^DCS  in 
the  conversion  of  the  nations  to  the  faith  of  Christ. 


350  PEAYER  FOR  CHRIST. 

V. 

But,  fifthly,  let  us  regard  tlie  esi^ecial  object  of  our  prayer 
in  tlie  behalf  of  Christ:  what  are  we  to  pray  for?  Our 
prayers  cannot  be  necessary  for  Him,  in  the  same  sense  in 
which  they  are  necessary  for  ourselves,  and  for  each  other. 
He  knows  no  want,  for  all  things  are  given  into  His  hands. 
He  is  no  more  the  subject  of  pain,  for  He  is  not  only  ineffably 
happy  in  himself,  but  also  the  fountain  of  happiness  to  all 
the  inhabitants  of  the  heavenly  world.  He  is  infinitely 
removed  beyond  the  reach  of  danger  and  of  death  ;  for  as 
the  Khio;  of  Zion  He  exercises  imcontrolled  dominion  over  the 
universe.  Personally  considered,  therefore.  He  is  quite  inde- 
pendent of  ©ur  prayers.  Personally  considered,  indeed,  we 
are  to  pray  to  Him,  rather  than/o?^  Him.  The  prayer,  then, 
that  is  to  be  made  for  Him  is  not  to  be  made  for  Him  per- 
sonally, but  relatively — on  account  of  His  relation  to  other 
beings — His  relation  to  us. 

In  this  point  of  view,  the  object  of  our  prayer  for  Christ 
will  necessarily  vary  with  the  varying  state  of  His  cause.  A 
time  of  error  in  doctrine,  or  of  laxity  in  discipline — a  state  of 
division  among  His  servants,  or  of  apathy  in  His  service — a 
season  of  adversity  or  of  prosperity — calls  for  a  corresponding 
strain  of  supplication.  But  there  is  one  object  which  it  is  always 
seasonable  to  implore,  and  which  should  always  occupy  the 
chief  place  in  our  petitions — the  great  blessing  of  the  present 
dispensation — the  eff"usion  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ.  Brethren, 
this  is  necessary — and  this  is  all  that  is  necessary!  Why 
was  it  that  the  preaching  of  the  apostles  was  so  much  more 
successful  than  the  preaching  of  their  Lord,  though  He  spake 
as  never  man  spake  ?  Because  when  He  ascended  up  on  high, 
and  received  gifts  for  men.  He  poured  out  the  Spirit  upon 
their  labours  in  the  full  measure  of  the  Christian  dispensa- 
tion. Why  is  it  that  the  preaching  of  the  present  day,  though, 
generally  speaking,  it  is  the  preaching  of  the  Cross,  is  attended 
with  no  greater  success  ?     It  is  because  there  is  not  a  pro- 


PEAYER  FOK  CHEIST.  351 

portionatG  concern  for  the  influence  of  the  Spirit — and, 
without  that,  the  preaching  of  the  Cross  itself  will  be  power- 
less, for  He  it  is  who  must  take  of  the  things  of  Christ,  and 
shew  them  efficaciously  to  the  soul. 

And  how  long  shall  this  state  of  comparative  barrenness 
continue?  "  Until  the  Spirit  be  poured  upon  us  from  on  high ; 
then  the  wilderness  will  be  a  fruitful  field,  and  the  fruitful 
field  be  counted  for  a  forest/'  Yes,  in  the  scheme  of  salva- 
tion, every  instrument  and  agent  has  its  appropriate  place, . 
and  its  apj)ointed  order  of  succession.  In  that  arrangement 
the  Spirit  is  the  prime  mover  of  the  whole.  Hence,  the  first 
prayer  of  Christ  on  His  ascension  to  heaven,  was  for  the 
efiusion  of  the  Spirit ;  till  that  was  poured  out  from  on  high, 
the  work  of  redemption  itself,  though  He  had  just  pronounced 
it  finished,  stood  still ;  but  when  it  came,  everj^thing  was  put 
into  motion — the  world  itself  vibrated — the  gates  of  hell 
shook. 

The  first  p"\ayer  of  the  Church,  then,  should  be  for  the 
same  object.  Why  is  it — oh,  let  there  be  great  searchings  of 
heart ! — why  is  it  that  the  promised  efi'usion  of  the  Spirit  is 
withheld?  Why  is  it  that  we  are  allowed  to  see  only  the 
skirts  of  His  garments,  and  not  permitted  to  see  His  face? 
Why  is  it  that  we  enjoy  only  a  few  drops  of  that  mighty 
influence,  of  which,  at  this  moment,  the  heavens  are  full? 
"  We  have  not,  because  we  ask  not,  or  because  we  ask  amiss." 
Individual  Christians  have  not. — individual  Churches  have 
not — the  Church  collectively  has  not  yet  duly  felt  its  need  of 
that  influence,  nor  sent  up  the  prayer  which  is  equal  to  bring 
it  down. 

Oh,  let  that  Spirit  be  sought  for  first  as  a  Spirit  of  prayer ; 
our  prayers  would  infallibly  draw  down  supplies  of  His 
influence — these  fresh  supplies  of  His  influence  would  as 
certainly  lead  to  increased  prayer  for  still  larger  efl'usions  of 
His  grace ;  and  thus,  by  action  and  reaction,  our  prayers 
would  continually  enlarge  in  their  progress,  and  insure 
increased  success  in  the  cause  of  Christ. 


352  PEAYEE  FOE  CHEIST. 

VL 

But  not  only  is  prayer  to  be  made  for  tlie  reign  of  Christ 
— the  text  predicts  its  continuity,  or  uninterruptedness ; 
"prayer  also  shall  be  made  for  Him  continually/'  Under 
the  former  dispensation,  the  fire  which  burnt  upon  the  golden 
altar  was  never  allowed  to  go  out — and  the  ardent  desire  of 
the  pious  Israelites  for  the  coming  of  Christ  glowed  con- 
tinually on  the  altar  of  their  hearts — it  never  went  out. 
And  it  is  pleasing  to  reflect  that,  in  the  present  day,  there  is 
a  sense  in  which  it  is  true,  literally,  that  prayer  is  made  for 
Him  continually.  "  Last  evening,''  writes  a  missionary  from 
China — "  last  evening,  a  small  party  of  the  disciples  of  Jesus 
held  a  meeting  for  prayer  in  my  rooms,  in  behalf  of  the 
heathen  around,  and  for  the  kino;dom  of  Christ  throughout 
the  world.  In  this  land  of  the  rising  sun  we  may  probably 
be  considered  as  beginning  that  series  of  prayer-meetings 
which  are  kept  up  all  around  the  world  on  the  first  Monday 
of  the  month — a  chain  of  prayer  beginning  at  the  farthest 
east,  and  carried  round  successively  as  the  sun  advances  to 
the  farthest  west,  in  the  islands  of  the  Pacific  Ocean — and 
thus  continued  for  twenty-four  hours  monthly." 

Now,  it  is  only  to  pursue  this  mode  of  calculation — and  to 
suj^pose,  that  wherever  there  are  Christians  to  pray  monthly 
in  public  for  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  there  are  some  to  pray 
daily  in  private  for  the  same  object — and  then  we  are  brought 
to  the  delightful  conclusion  that  prayer  is  made  for  Him 
continually — that  as  the  aged  believer,  like  David,  breathes 
out  his  last  prayer  for  the  glory  of  His  reign,  another  genera- 
tion is  just  beginning  to  lis]D,  "Thy  Idngdom  come" — and  as 
the  Christians  of  one  province  are  rising  from  their  knees 
before  the  throne  of  grace,  the  Christians  of  another  province 
are  just  beginning  to  take  up  the  language  of  supplication 
for  Christ — and  thus  a  chain  of  j^rayer,  beginning  in  the 
farthest  east,  is  carried  round  with  the  sun  to  the  farthest 
west  in  the  islands  of  the  Pacific,  through  aU  the  hours  of 


PEAYER  FOR  CHRIST.  353 

time!  And  how  much  more  j^leasing  does  this  reflection 
become  when  we  add  to  it  the  thought,  that  of  all  the  prayers 
which  are  thus  offered  for  Christ,  making  one  continued 
strain  of  supplication,  not  one  ever  has  been,  nor  can  be 
lost !  Is  it  true  that  every  sin  committed  by  His  enemies  is 
noticed  by  a  God  of  unspotted  holiness — that  every  trans- 
gression adds  something  to  the  treasures  of  His  wrath — and 
that  when  the  cup  of  vengeance  is  full,  He  pours  it  forth  on 
the  heads  of  the  guilty?  As  certainly  true  is  it  that  every 
prayer  of  faith  offered  by  His  people  in  behalf  of  His  Son  is 
noticed  by  a  God  of  infinite  love — that  every  such  prayer 
adds  something  to  the  treasures  of  His  grace — and  that 
when  these  treasures  have  accumulated  to  a  certain  amount, 
He  pours  them  forth  upon  the  Church  and  the  world.  It 
is  as  certainly  true,  that  at  the  very  moment  when  such  a 
prayer  is  offered,  in  that  very  moment  He  answers  it  in  His 
Divine  intention,  though  He  may  wisely  delay  for  a  time  to 
answer  it  really.  The  suppliant  himself  may  forget  his  own 
supplication,  or  may  despair  of  obtaining  an  answer — but  He 
is  still  mindful  of  it.  And  however  obscure  the  suj^pliant. 
He  prizes  it.  It  is  prayer  for  His  Son,  and  as  such  is  music 
in  His  ear,  of  which  He  loses  not  a  single  note.  It  is  a 
prayer  for  the  coming  of  His  kingdom — and  as  such.  He 
places  it  among  the  perfumed  supj^lications  already  offered 
by  the  saints  of  past  generations — He  places  it  among  the 
last  aspirations  breathed  by  David,  the  son  of  Jesse,  and  of 
every  ancient  worthy — among  the  mighty  prayers  which 
ascended  from  the  fires  of  the  early  martyrs — among  the 
loud  cries  of  those  whose  souls  are  heard  from  under  the 
altar — among  the  earnest  entreaties  of  the  wide  creation 
which  sighs  to  be  delivered  from  the  bondage  of  corruption 
into  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God.  It  is  a  i3rayer 
for  the  salvation  of  a  world  which  He  loves  —  and  with 
delight  He  beholds  it  flow  into  a  channel  in  which  a  stream 
of  prayer  has  been  for  ages  flowing  and  accumulating  without 
a  moments  pause  —  and  which  shall  finally  overflow,  and 

z 


354  PEAYEE  FOE  CHEIST.    ^ 

pour  forth  a  healing  flood  of  heavenly  grace  over  the  whole 
earth.  Ye,  then,  that  love  the  Lord,  keep  not  silence.  And 
in  all  your  entreaties  for  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  let  your 
loudest  sui^plications  ascend  for  the  advent  of  His  Spiiit. 
If  you  would  not  grieve  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God — if  you 
would  do  homage  to  the  office  which  He  holds  in  the  plan  of 
the  world's  salvation — if  you  would  do  honour  to  the  media- 
tion of  Christ  by  which  the  Spirit  is  given — pray  continually 
for  Christ,  by  praying  continually  for  His  Spirit. 

VII. 

Observe,  again,  that  prayer  for  Christ  is  to  be  offered  con- 
jointly with  other  things — "prayer  also.''  In  all  conquered 
lands,  the  subjection  of  the  people  was  marked  by  two  things 
— their  money  was  stamped  with  the  name  of  the  conqueror, 
and  they  were  obliged  to  pray  for  him  in  their  public 
worship.  In  allusion  to  this  fact,  it  is  here  said  of  the  con- 
quering Saviour — "  To  Him  shall  be  given  of  the  gold  of 
Sheba,  prayer  also  shall  be  made  for  Him  continually."  The 
gold  of  Sheba — a  portion  of  our  worldly  substance  is  to  be 
devoted  to  Him,  in  connexion  with  our  prayers.  For  to  pray 
in  His  behalf,  without  accompanying  the  act  with  this  proof 
of  our  sincerity,  would  be  as  profane,  as  to  use  all  other  kind 
of  means  except  prayer  would  be  impious.  And  who  has 
not  at  least  a  cup  of  cold  water,  or  two  mites  to  contribute 
to  His  service,  in  connexion  with  a  23rayer  for  His  glory  ? 

But  we  apprehend,  that  it  is  far  more  common  for  a  man 
to  give  without  praying  than  it  is  for  him  to  pray  without 
contributing.  He  may  give  a  small  pittance  to  the  cause  of 
Christ,  and  the  motive  which  leads  him  to  do  so  may  stop 
there,  without  leading  to  anything  beyond-  But  the  motive 
which  leads  him  to  become  a  suppliant  for  that  cause  at  a 
throne  of  grace,  will  operate  to  other  effects.  The  love  which 
led  him  there  will  lead  him,  while  there,  to  inquire,  "  Lord, 
what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  do?"  The  zeal  for  Clnist  which 
led  him  there  will  not  there  exphe — it  will  there  be  fanned. 


PKAYER  FOR  CHRIST.  355 

and  fed,  and  rise  into  a  flame,  into  which  his  property  will 
be  cast,  as  one  of  the  first  and  most  appropriate  offerings. 
Prayer  for  Christ  is  one  of  the  last  efforts  made  for  Him — we 
are  disposed  to  emulate  each  other  in  everything  rather  than 
in  prayer;  and  hence  the  importance  of  urging  the  duty, 
since  where  this  is  performed,  it  evinces  a  disposition  to 
perform  every  other. 

Brethren,  do  you  contribute  a  portion  of  your  property  to 
the  Christian  cause,  but  withhold  your  supplications  from  it? 
Then  the  Church  cannot  rely  on  the  continuance  of  your  aid, 
for  it  does  not  scoring  from  princijDle — and  God  himself 
resents  what  you  do  as  an  affront  offered  to  His  Spirit.  He 
regards  every  power  in  the  imiverse  as  more  or  less  opposed 
to  Him,  but  the  power  of  prayer,  and  the  means  which 
prayer  has  sanctified.  He  views  it  as  an  attempt  to  do  with- 
out Him — as  a  hostile  endeavour  to  contravene  the  great 
principle  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  that  not  by  might,  nor  by 
power,  but  by  His  Spirit  alone,  the  maladies  of  the  world 
shall  be  healed. 

On  the  other  hand,  does  the  Christian  cause  press  on  your 
heart?  We  will  defy  you  to  withhold  your  property  from  it. 
Do  you  sympathize  with  Christ  in  the  travail  of  His  soul? 
Oh,  if  that  sympathy  be  sincere,  it  will  turn  your  whole  soul 
into  desire — it  will  convert  your  very  gifts  into  j^rayers — Hke 
the  eastern  magi,  the  act  of  falling  down  to  adore  Him,  and 
of  pouring  out  at  His  feet  gold,  and  frankincense,  and  myrrh, 
will,  with  you,  be  one  and  the  same.  Do  you  sincerely  pray 
for  the  outpouring  of  the  Spirit?  In  imploring  that,  you  are 
imploring  a  spirit  of  Christian  liberality  for  yourself  and  for 
the  whole  Church.  You  are,  in  effect,  praying,  that  all  the 
powers  of  nature — all  the  resources  of  Providence — all  the 
wealth  and  greatness  of  the  world,  may  be  pressed  into  the 
service  of  Christ.  For  only  let  the  SjDirit  be  poured  out 
from  on  high,  and  it  will  enlist  into  His  cause  every  species 
of  instrumentality  which  men  j)ossess.  "  The  abundance  of 
the  sea  shall  be  converted  unto  thee — the  forces  of  the  Gen- 


356  PPvAYEE  FOE  CHRIST. 

tiles  shall  come  unto  thee — the  multitude  of  camels  shall 
cover  thee — the  dromedaries  of  Midian  and  Ephah — all  they 
from  Sheba  shall  come — they  shall  bring  gold  and  incense; 
and  they  shall  shew  forth  the  i3raises  of  the  Lord/'  Every- 
thing will  be  brought  as  an  exj^ression  of  love  to  Christ,  and 
to  adorn  His  triumph.  Nothing,  nothing  will  be  deemed 
too  costly  for  the  great  occasion.  All  majesty  shall  bow 
before  Him — kings  shall  wait  in  His  train — the  spoils  of 
earthly  grandeur  be  laid  at  His  feet — and  Christ  alone  be 
exalted  in  that  day. 

VIII. 

How  many  and  how  powerful  the  motives,  then,  which 
should  induce  us  to  j)ray  for  the  reign  of  Christ !  A  sense 
of  consistency  demands  it.  We  call  Him  our  king;  and 
shall  we  not  be  concerned  for  the  prosperity  of  His  kingdom? 
A  principle  of  benevolence  to  man  requires  it.  The  success 
of  His  cause  and  human  hai^piness  are  one.  His  voice  is 
the  proclamation  of  pardon  to  the  condemned,  and  of  liberty 
to  the  cajotive.  His  conquests  are  bloodless — achieved  over 
sin,  and  error,  and  the  enemies  of  man.  His  trophies  are 
the  souls  of  men,  redeemed  from  the  bondage  of  Satan,  and 
adorned  with  the  beauties  of  holiness.  His  career  is  the 
march  of  truth,  and  righteousness,  and  peace.  Then,  who 
would  not  pray  for  His  success?  A  j^rincijDle  of  gratitude 
requires  it.  He  has  prayed  for  us  with  strong  frying  and 
tears,  or  we  should  not,  at  this  moment,  be  in  a  condition  to 
pray  for  ourselves.  He  gave  Himself  for  us.  And  in 
heaven  He  intercedes  for  us  still.  Yes,  this  is  the  order — 
the  manifest  arrangement  of  infinite  wisdom — that  He  should 
intercede  for  the  Church,  while  the  Church  intercedes  for  the 
world.  In  the  gracious  fulfilment  of  His  office,  He  prays 
continually  for  us — the  censer  never  quits  His  hand — the 
incense  perpetually  rises — His  priestly  robes  are  never  laid 
aside.  And  shall  we  intermit  our  prayers  for  Him?  Let  a 
sense  of  our  obligation  induce  us  to  pray  for  Him. 


PEAYEE  FOR  CHEIST.  357 

A  regard  for  our  o-v^ai  welfare  demands  it.  We  cannot 
pray  for  Him  without  drawing  down  a  blessing  on  ourselves 
— without  enlarging  our  hearts — standing  as  in  the  counsels 
of  God — becoming  Godlike.  And  thus  every  prayer  which 
ascends  from  His  people  in  His  behalf,  like  the  vapour  which 
the  earth  sends  up  into  the  clouds,  returns  again  in  showers 
of  blessing  into  their  own  bosom. 

Besides,  prayer  for  the  reign  of  Christ  is  in  harmony  with 
the  pervading  spirit  of  the  Gospel  constitution.  According 
to  that  spirit,  everything  is  made  dependent  on  prayer,  and 
may  be  effected  by  it.  What  is  the  sacrifice  of  Christ  him- 
self, but  prayer  in  its  most  concentrated,  intense,  and  prevail- 
ing form — the  prayer  of  blood?  Hence  it  is  said,  "  He  is 
able  to  save  unto  the  uttermost  all  that  come  unto  God  by 
him,  seeing  he  ever  liveth  to  make  intercession  for  them.'' 
He  has  turned  the  merit  of  His  sacrijfice  into  prayer.  Inter- 
cession, in  His  hands,  is  a  chain  fastened  to  the  throne  of 
God — the  stay  and  support  of  a  sinking  world !  Yes ;  even 
Christ  has  to  pray,  and  by  prayer  succeeds.  If  He  would 
have  the  heathen  to  be  His  for  an  inheritance,  He  is  directed 
to  ask  to  that  effect.  And,  accordingly,  He  does  ask.  "  For 
Zion's  sake,"  saith  He,  "  I  will  not  hold  my  peace;  and  for 
Jerusalem's  sake  I  will  not  rest,  until  the  righteousness 
thereof  go  forth  as  brightness ;  and  the  salvation  thereof  as  a 
lamp  that  burneth."  And  shall  He  pray  for  this  object  alone  ? 
He  summons  His  Church  to  join  Him.  "  Ye  that  make 
mention  of  the  Lord,"  saith  He,  "  keep  not  silence,  and  give 
Him  no  rest."  He  places  them  by  His  side  at  the  altar,  puts 
into  their  hand  a  censer  filled  with  incense  like  His  own,  and 
thus  seeks  to  multij^ly  the  voice  and  power  of  His  own 
intercession. 

But  why  should  it  be  necessary  to  enforce  motives  such  as 
these?  The  honour  which  He  has  put  on  us  in  permitting 
us  to  pray  for  Him  might  well  overAvhelm  us  with  amaze- 
ment. He  needs  not  the  supplications  of  any  of  His  creatures, 
for  He  is  the  object  of  the  Father's  unbounded  complacency, 


358  PEAYER  FOE  CHRIST. 

wlio  hatli  given  all  things  into  His  hands.  Or,  if  He  chose 
to  employ  them,  He  might  have  engaged  the  intercession  of 
His  holy  angels.  They  have  never  cast  off  His  authority  as 
we  have  done ;  they  have  ever  counted  it  their  highest  honour 
to  engage  in  His  service.  How  astonishing,  then,  that  He 
should  ask  for  our  supphcations  in  His  behalf!  That  He 
should  permit  us  to  breathe  an  entreaty  for  Him  !  That  He 
should  place  us — ^whose  every  breath  was  pollution — ^whose 
every  act  was  an  act  of  rebellion  against  Him — ^whom  He  had 
to  create  anew  before  we  would  take  any  interest  in  His 
service — that  He  should  actually  place  us  around  the  golden 
altar  as  priests  and  intercessors  for  Him !  That  He  should, 
as  it  were,  change  relations  with  us — j)l^cing  us  in  the  office 
of  intercessors  for  Him,  though  the  acceptance  of  our  prayers, 
and  the  salvation  of  our  souls,  depend  entirely  on  His  inter- 
cession for  us !  Well  may  prayer  be  made  continually  for 
Him !  And  well  may  the  Christian  cherish  the  desire  that 
every  moment  of  His  life  could  be  consecrated  to  an  employ- 
ment so  ennobling  and  divine ! 

IX. 

Brethren,  in  making  an  application  of  this  subject,  how 
painful  is  it  to  think  that  fidelity  requires  us  to  ask,  not 
merely  whether  you  have  ever  prayed  for  the  cause  of  Christ, 
but  to  go  so  far  back  as  to  ask,  whether  you  have  ever  j)rayed 
for  yourselves?  For,  if  you  have  not,  it  is  too  much  to 
suppose  that  you  have  prayed  even  for  Christ.  If  you  have 
not  prayed  to  him  on  your  own  account,  it  is  not  to  be 
imagined  that  you  have  prayed  for  him  on  any  account. 
Let  me,  then,  repeat  the  inquiry — not  as  a  matter  of  course, 
but  as  a  matter  of  infinite  moment — whether  you  have  ever 
yet  prayed  for  yourselves  ?  Have  you  acquired  a  habit  of 
resorting  daily  to  the  footstool  of  mercy,  in  the  name  of 
Christ?  If  you  have  not,  let  me  remind  you  that,  so  far 
from  promoting  His  cause,  you  are  throwing  yourselves  as 


PEAYEE  FOE  CHEIST.  359 

obstacles  in  the  way  of  its  progress.  Let  me  remind  you 
that,  if  your  conduct  were  universally  imitated,  this  world 
would  cease  to  have  any  intercourse  with  heaven — the  foot- 
stool of  mercy  would  be  deserted— the  angel  having  the 
golden  censer  would  forsake  the  altar,  no  more  to  offer 
incense  there — the  destruction  of  the  world  would  commence. 
Let  me  remind  you  that  the  cause  of  Christ,  of  which  you 
are  now  so  regardless,  is  destined  to  triumph;  and  the  choice 
is  now  given  you,  whether  you  will  share  the  honour  of  pro- 
moting it,  or  be  dragged  as  a  captive  at  its  wheels.  Believe 
it,  my  fellow-sinner,  that  he  is  now  awaiting  your  application 
for  mercy.  He  now  sends  to  you  this  message — that  He  is 
waiting  for  you ;  that  He  looks  to  see  you  this  day  at  His 
footstool.  Oh,  haste,  and  take  refuge  at  His  feet!  Pray 
that  He  would  triumph  over  your  irreligion;  beseech  Him  to 
make  you  willing  in  the  day  of  His  power. 

But  if  you  do  pray  for  the  reign  of  Christ,  cultivate  the 
habit.  Pray  for  an  increase  of  your  ovm  personal  piety;  and 
remember  that,  in  so  doing,  you  are,  in  effect,  praying  for 
Him— for  you  are  asking  Him  to  augment  His  glory  by  the 
acceptance  of  your  homage— to  multiply  His  subjects  by 
adding  you  to  their  number — to  advance  His  cause  by  taking 
you  into  His  service,  and  condescending  to  employ  your 
instrumentaKty. 

Pray  for  the  prosperity  of  the  Christian  Church.  "But 
has  not  a  spirit  of  supplication,  of  late  years,  distinguished 
the  Churches  of  Christ?"  Only  very  partially;  whereas  the 
prayer  wanted  is  universal.  Only  very  feebly;  whereas  the 
prayer  wanted  is  the  effectual,  fervent  prayer,  which  availeth 
much.  Only  by  fits;  whereas  the  prayer  needed  is  the  con- 
tinuous, unbroken,  persevering  cry  of  importunity.  Only 
the  prayer  of  party — effects  prove  it;  whereas  the  prayer 
wanted  is  the  prayer  of  all,  with  one  accord. 

Pray,  then,  for  the  prosperity  of  the  Christian  Church. 
Do  you  ask,  what  should  be  the  special  object  of  supplica- 


SCO  PEAYER  FOE  CHRIST. 

tion?  Oil,  it  wants  more  sj^irituality,  or  distinctness  from 
the  world — it  wants  a  higher  appreciation  of  its  office,  as 
the  instrument  of  Christ  for  saving  the  world — it  wants 
more  of  the  spirit  of  liberality,  union,  zeal.  But  there  is 
one  want  which  comprehends  the  whole — the  impartation  of 
the  Holy  Spirit.  Let  that  be  secured,  and  in  obtaining  that, 
we  shall  obtain  the  supply  of  every  other  want — we  should 
find  that  we  had  come  into  possession  of  the  same  mind 
which  was  also  in  Christ — a  benevolence  which  would  yearn 
over  the  whole  human  race — a  brotherly  love  which  would 
combine  with  the  entire  body  of  Christians  for  the  conversion 
of  the  world — a  zeal  which  would  be  constantly  devising 
fresh  methods  of  usefulness,  practising  self-denial,  and  laying 
itself  out  in  the  service  of  Christ — and  a  perseverance  which 
would  never  rest  till  the  whole  family  of  man  should  be 
seated  together  at  the  banquet  of  salvation. 

But  if  all  this  is  to  be  obtained  by  prayer,  shall  we  not 
seek  for  it — and  seek  for  it  at  once?  Why  should  this 
Church — this  congregation — delay?  Why  should  we  not 
now — every  soul — send  up  an  earnest  and  united  cry  for 
the  Spirit  of  God?  And,  if  we  did  so,  who  will  dare  to  say 
that  the  blessing  would  not  forthwith  descend?  and  who  will 
venture  to  calculate  the  extent  and  the  consequence  of  that 
blessing?  Brethren,  do  we  really  believe  in  the  efficacy  of 
prayer — do  we?  Then  let  us  prove  it — let  us  take  an  imagi- 
nary case — ^let  us  take,  for  instance,  that  forlorn  hope  of  the 
missionary  war,  China,  as  the  scene  of  a  new  Christian  enter- 
prize.  Let  every  step  taken  be  consecrated  by  2:)rayer.  Let 
the  heralds  be  sent  to  summon  it  in  the  name  of  Christ. 
Let  ]Moses  retire  to  the  hill  to  pray — and,  if  necessary,  let 
Joshua  and  Hur  accompany  and  assist  him  ;  in  other  words, 
let  chosen  men  be  apjoointed  to  pray — let  others  follow  them 
in  unbroken  succession — and  others  meet  to  2'»i'ay  for  the 
chosen  intercessors — and  let  them  entreat  God  continually 
for  that  specific  object ;  let  this  be  done — and  could  you 


PEAYER  FOR  CHRIST.  361 

doubt  of  success?  "Would  you  hesitate,  supposing  you  were 
qualified,  to  be  yourself  one  of  the  heralds?  Then  you  are 
not  a  believer. 

Christian  brethren !  prayer  is  not  only  desirable,  obliga- 
tory, necessary — it  is,  in  a  sense,  becoming  inevitable.  We 
read  of  the  Church  of  old  being  shut  up  unto  the  faith  which 
should  afterwards  be  revealed  —  the  faith  of  Christ.  The 
Church  at  present  is  shut  up  unto  prayer — prayer  for  the 
Spirit.  It  must  submit  to  disgrace  in  heathen  lands,  or  call 
down  help  from  heaven.  It  is  so  completely  ensnared  by 
success,  that  it  must  sound  a  retreat  or  betake  itself  to  God 
in  unusual  prayer.  Happy  necessity,  which  shall  drive  it  to 
this  resource !  Blessed  exigence,  which  shall  bring  the  whole 
Church  on  its  knees  before  God!  The  time  to  favour  her, 
yea,  the  set  time,  will  then  have  come.  "God,  even  our  own 
God,  will  bless  us.""*  Gazing  from  His  throne  upon  His 
Church,  suppKant  at  His  feet,  He  will  say,  "Behold,  she 
prayeth!  let  the  windows  of  heaven  be  oj^ened,  and  the 
blessing  be  poured  out.''' 

By  our  sense  of  consistency,  then — by  our  pity  for  nations 
perishing  in  ignorance  and  guilt — by  our  gratitude  to  Christ 
— by  our  own  spmtual  v/elfare — and  l^y  the  dignity  of  our 
office,  let  us  seek  the  effusion  of  the  Spirit  on  the  Christian 
Church.  And,  while  before  God  in  prayer,  let  us  remember 
that  in  interceding  for  the  Church,  we  are  interceding  for 
the  world;  for  it  is  only  through  the  instrumentality  of  His 
people  that  He  proposes  to  save  the  world.  Christians, 
realize  in  thought  the  responsibility  of  your  office — you  go 
to  God  as  the  earthly  representatives  of  mankind — as  inter- 
cessors for  the  world.  You  pass  to  the  throne  of  grace 
through  multitudes,  myriads  of  human  beings.  Do  you  not 
hear  them,  as  you  go,  imploring  a  place  in  your  supplica- 
tions? Do  you  not  see  all  Africa  assembled  in  your  path — 
urging  you  to  go  to  God  for  them — to  describe  their  wrongs 
— to  ask  for  them  the  blessino-s  of  the  reio-n  of  Christ?     And 


362  PEAYEK  FOR  CHRIST, 

before  yon  have  clone  pleading  for  Africa,  China  comes,  with 
its  nntolcl  myriads,  entreating  you  to  intercede  for  them. 
And  while  yet  you  are  pleading  for  China,  India  comes,  with 
its  tale  of  lamentation  and  woe,  and  entreats  you  to  speak 
for  it — and  can  you  refrain?  And  when  you  grow  faint, 
they  all  combine  their  entreaties  that  you  cry  to  God  for 
them  louder  still — that  you  call  in  help — more  intercessors, 
and  more  still — till  all  the  Church  be  prostrate  in  prayer. 
And  when  you  move  to  quit  the  throne  of  grace,  they  all 
entreat  you  not  to  leave  them  unrepresented  before  God. 
"  Oh,  if  there  be  a  God,''  they  say,  "  and  if  prayer  can  reach 
Him,  do  not  leave  us  thus,  or  we  perish.  Our  only  hope  is  in 
the  God  you  worship — the  Saviour  you  proclaim ;  pray  that 
His  saving  health  may  be  extended  to  us.''  Let  Christians 
realize  their  office  thus — and  remember  that  in  asking  for 
the  salvation  of  the  world,  they  are  seeking  the  consumma- 
tion of  the  glory  of  Christ,  and  they  would  pray  till  the  world 
was  given  into  their  hands. 

Meantime,  the  whole  creation  prays — the  whole  creation 
groaneth  and  travaileth  in  pain  together  until  now.  It  con- 
tains within  itself  principles  and  powers  repressed  by  the 
curse  of  sin,  but  panting  and  praying  to  regain  their  freedom 
and  to  fulfil  their  destiny — and  its  prayer  shall  be  heard. 
But,  oh !  there  is  an  infinite  power  slumbering  in  the  arm  of 
God,  waiting  to  be  awoke  by  the  prayers  of  the  Church  for 
the  renovation  of  the  world.  And  the  time  shall  come 
when  the  efficacy  of  prayer  shall  be  tried  on  a  scale  before 
unknowm — wdien  the  voice  of  the  Church  shall  incessantly 
cry,  "  Awake,  awake,  0  arm  of  the  Lord."  And  the  time 
shaU  come  when  that  voice  shall  be  heard,  and  those  prayers 
be  answered.  "  Behold,"  saith  He,  "I  make  all  things  new!" 
At  this  moment  that  new  creation  stands  in  His  prescient 
view.  There  are  its  fields  of  living  green — its  trees  of  life — 
and  all  its  crystal  streams.  There  are  the  nations  of  them 
that  are  saved,  rejoicing  before  Him.     His  Churcli  prayed 


PEAYER  FOE  CHRIST.  363-S^?fr^ 

for  Him  continually — and  now,  "  daily  shall  He  be  praised/' 
His  name  shall  endure  for  ever — His  name  shall  be  con- 
tinued as  long  as  the  sun — and  men  shall  be  blessed  in  Him 
— all  nations  shall  call  Him  blessed.  Blessed  be  the  Lord 
God,  the  God  of  Israel,  who  only  doeth  wondrous  thmgs. 
And  blessed  be  His  glorious  name  for  ever,  and  let  the 
whole  earth  be  filled  with  His  glory.     Amen,  and  Amen. 


END  OF  VOL.  I. 


THE  LIFE  AND  PQSTHUiVlOUS  WORKS 


THE  EEV.  JOHN  HAEPJS,  D.D., 

Late  Principal  of  New  College,  London,  and  formerly  Theological  Tutor  of 
Cheslmnt  College. 

Edited  by  the  REV.  PHILIP  SMITH,  B.A., 

Head  Master  of  Mill  Hill  School,  and  formerly  a  Colleague  of  Dr  Harris  in 

Cheshunt  and  New  Colleges. 


This  Series  of  the  Ecmains  of  tlieir  lamented  Author  -will  contain  the 

Sermons  imir  Cfjargcs 

Delivered  by  him  in  various  parts  of  the  countiy,  during  the  height  of  his 
reputation  as  a  Preacher ; 

%  ^xraim  on  |Iatunil  anir  |icbcalcir  ^Iclxgioit, 

Exhibiting,  in  one  view,  the  latest  results  of  his  Theological  Studies ; 

And  a  Fragment,  complete  in  itself,  of  the  Work  which  was  interrupted  by 
his  Death,  on 

Cj^^  gibinx  60&mTnmtl  rrf  Uatbns; 

Besides  other  JMinor  Writings  and  Fragments. 


The  Works  icill  not  extend  heyond  Fonr  elegant  andportahle  Volumes, 
in  lloyal  12  mo. 

THE  MEMOIR  WILL  BE  IN  ONE  VOLUME,  UNIFORM  WITH  THE  WORKS. 


VALUABLE    WORKS 


PTTBLISnKD    BY 


G-OULD     AND     LINCOLN, 

59   WASHINGTON    STKSET,    BOSTON. 


THE   CHRISTIAN'S  DAILY  TEEASURY. 

A  Religious  Exercise  for  E^-ery  Day  in  the  Tear.    By  E.  Temple.    A  new  and  im- 
proved edition.    r2nio,  cloth,  $1.00. 
A  work  for  every  Christian.    It  is  indeed  a  "  Treasury  "  of  good  things. 

THE  SCHOOL  OF  CHRIST; 

Or,  Christianity  Viewed  in  its  Leading  Aspects.  By  the  Eev.  A.  L.  R.  Foote, 
author  of  '^  Incidents  in  the  Life  of  our  Saviour,"  etc.    16mo,  cloth,  50  cents. 

THE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE, 
Social  and  Individual.    By  Peter  Bayne,  M.  A.    12mo,  clott,  $1.25. 

The  demand  for  this  extraordinary  work,  commencing  before  its  publication,  is  still  eager  and  con- 
stant. There  is  but  one  voice  respecting  it ;  men  of  all  denominations  agree  in  pronouncing  it  one  of 
tlie  most  admirable  works  of  the  age. 

GOD  REVEALED  IN  THE  PROCESS  OF  CREATION, 

And  by  the  3Ianifestation  of  Jesus  Christ.  Including  an  Examination  of  the  Develop- 
ment Theory  contained  in  the  "  Vestiges  of  the  Natural  History  of  Creation."  By 
James  B.  Walker,  author  of  "Philosophy  of  the  Plan  of  Salvation."  12mo, 
cloth,  $1.00.  ' 

PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  PLAN   OF   SALVATION. 

By  an  Americaist  Citizen.    An  Introductory  Essay,  by  Calvin  E.  Stowe,  D.  D. 

Kew  improved  edition,  with  a  Supplementary  Chapter.    12mo,  cloth,  75  cts. 

This  book  is  generally  admitted  to  be  one  of  the  best  in  the  English  language.  The  work  has  been 
translated  into  several  different  languages  in  Europe.    A  capital  book  to  circulate  among  young  men. 

A  ^\T:IEATH  around  the  CROSS; 

Or,  Scripture  Truths  Illustrated.  By  A.  Morton  Brown,  D.  D.  Recommen- 
datory Preface,  by  Joun  Angell  James.  Beautiful  Frontispiece.  16mo,  cloth,  60 
cents. 

THE  BETTER  LAND ; 

Or,  The  Believer's  Journey  and  Future  Home.    By  Rev.  A.  C.  TnoMPSON.    12mo, 

cloth,  85  cents. 

A  most  charming  and  instructive  book  for  all  now  journeying  to  the  "  Better  Land,"  and 
especially  for  those  who  have  friends  already  entered  upon  its  never-ending  joys. 

THE  MISSION  OF  THE  COMFORTER. 

"With  copious  ISTotes.  By  Julius  Charles  Hare.  With  the  Notes  translated 
for  the  American  edition.    12mo,  cloth,  $1.25. 

DR.  WAYLAND'S  UNIVERSITY  SERMON 

Delivered  in  the  Chapel  of  BrowTi  University.    12mo,  cloth,  SBl.OO. 

THE  RELIGIONS  OF  THE  WORLD. 

And  their  Relations  to  Christianity.  By  Frederick  Denison  BIaurice,  A.  M., 
Professor  of  Divinity,  King's  College,  London.    16mo,  cloth,  60  cts. 

f5) 


VALUABLE  WOSKS  PUBLISHED  BY  GOULD  So  LINCOLN,  BOSTON. 


SACHED   IHIETOmC; 

Or,  Composition  and  Deliver}-  of  Sermons.  By  Henry  J.  Eipley,  Professor  in 
Newton  Tlieological  Int^titiitioii.  lueliiding  rrol'essor  Ware's  Hints  on  Extem- 
poraneous Preacliiug.    12mo,  75  cts. 

THE  PREACHER  AND   THE  KING; 

Or,  Bourdaloue  in  tlie  Court  of  Louis  XIV.  An  Account  of  that  distinguished  Era, 
Translated  from  the  French  of  L.  E.  Bungenku.  With  an  Introduction  by  the 
Itev.  CiEORGE  roTTS,  D.D.  New  edition,  with  a  line  Lilceuess,  and  a  bketcli  of 
the  Autlior's  Life.    lUmo,  cloth,  S?1.25. 

It  combines  substantial  history  -with  the  highest  charm  of  romance.    Its  attractions  are  so  various 
that  it  can  hardly  fail  to  find  readers  of  almost  every  description.  —  [Puritan  Kecorder. 

THE  PRIEST  AND  THE  HUGrENOT ; 

Or,  Persecution  in  the  Age  of  Louis  XY.  Translated  from  the  French  of  L.F.  Bun- 
GEXER.    2  vols.,  12mo,"cloth,  !ir2.25. 

K3~  This  is  truly  a  masterly  production,  full  of  interest,  and  may  be  set  down  as  one  of  the  greatest 
Protestant  works  of  the  age. 

FOOTSTEPS   OF   OUR  FOREFATHERS. 

What  they  Suffered  and  what  tliey  Sought.  Describing  Localities  and  portraying 
Personages  and  Events  conspicuous  in  the  Struggles  for  Ifeligious  Liberty.  By 
James  G.  Miall.    Thirty -six  tine  Illustrations.  "l2mo,  Sl.UO. 

An  exceedingly  entertaining  work.    The  reader  soon  becomes  so  deeply  entertained  that  he  finds 
it  difficult  to  lay  aside  the  book  till  fiuislied.  —  [Ch.  Parlor  Mag. 
A  work  absorbingly  interesting,  and  very  instructive.  —  [Western  Lit.  Magazine. 

MEMORIALS  OF  E.1RLY  CHRISTIANITY. 

Presenting,  in  a  grapliic,  compact,  and  popular  form,  Jlcmorable  Events  of  Early 
Ecclesiastical  Ilistorv,  etc.  By  James  G.  Mi  all.  With  numerous  elegant  Illus- 
trations.   12mo,  cloth,  igil.OO. 

133"  This,  like  the  "Footsteps  of  our  Forefathers,"  will  be  found  a  work  of  uncommon  interest. 

■WOKKS   BY   JOHN   HARRIS,  D.  D. 


THE  PPtE-ADA:JIITE  EARTH.  Con- 
tributions to  Theological  Science.  12mo, 
cloth,  Sl.OO. 


THE  GPEAT  TEACHER  ;  or,  Charac- 
teristics of  our  Loid's  Ministrv.  SV^ith 
an  Introductory  Essay.  By 'H.  Hum- 
phrey, D.  D.    12mo,  "cloth,  85  cts. 


MAX  PRIMEVAL  :  or,  the  Constitution 
and  Primitive  Condition  of  the  Human  THE    GREAT   C0M3IISSI0X  ;    or,  the 


Being.  With  a  tine  I'ortrait  of  the  Au- 
thor.   12mo,  cloth,  $1.25. 

PATRIARCHY ;  or,  THE  FAMILY.     Its 

Constitution  and  Probation;  being  the 
third  volume  of  ''  Contributions  to  The- 
logical  Science."    $1.25. 


Christian  Church  constituted  and  charg- 
ed to  convey  the  Gospel  to  the  World. 
Introductory  Essay  by  W.  R.  Wil- 
liams, D.  D.    12mo,  cloth,  $1.00. 

ZEBULOX;  Or,  the  Moral  Claims  of  Sea- 
men.   18mo,  cloth,  25  cts. 


PIIILn*  DODDRIDGE. 

His  Life  and  Labors.      By  Jotin  STorGHTON,  D.  D.,  with  beautiful  Illuminated 
Title-i)age  and  Frontispiece.    16mo,  cloth,  60  cents. 

THE  EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY, 

As  exhibited  in  the  writings  of  its  apologists,  down  to  Augustine.   By  W.  J.  Bolton, 
of  Gonville  and  Caius  College,  Cambridge.    12mo,  cloth,  80  cents. 

(6) 


VALUABLE  WORKS  PUBLISHED  BY  GOULD  &  LINCOLN,  BOSTON 


WORKS   BY   DR.   TWEEDIE. 
GLAD   TIDINGS  ;    or,  The   Gospel  of  A  LAMP  TO  THE  TATII  ;  or,  the  T^lble 


Peace.  A  series  of  Daily  Meditations 
lor  Cliristian  Disciples.  By  Kev.  ^V.  K. 
TWEEDIE,  1>.  D.  U'itli  elegant  Illus- 
trated Title-page.     Itjuiu,  clotn,  03  cts. 

HIE  5I0RN  OF  LIFE  ;  or,  Examples 
of  Female  Excellence.  A  Book  lor 
Young  J.,adies.     IGuio,  cloth.     In  jness. 


in  the  Heart,  the  Home,  and  the  Market 
Place.  With  an  elegant  Illustrated 
Title-page.     IGmo,  clotli,  G3  cts. 

SEED  TIME  AND  HARVEST:  or,  Sow 
Well  and  Keap  Well.  A  Book  lor  the 
Young.  Willi  an  elegant  Illustrated 
Title-page.     IGmo,  cloth,  U3  cts. 


CO*  Tlie  above  works,  by  Dr.  Tweedic,  arc  of  uiiilbrMi  size  and  stj'le.    They  are  most  cliarni- 
iig,  pious,  and  insti-uctive  works,  beautifully  gotten  up,  and  well  adapted  for  "gift-books." 

WORKS   BY   JOHW   ANGELL   JAMES. 


THE  CHURCH  MEMBERS  GUIDE  ; 
Edited  by  J.  O.  Choules,  D  I).  Aew 
edition.  With  an  Introductory  Essay  by 
Rev.  HUBBARU  WiNSLOVV.    Cloth,  33c. 


CHRISTIAN  PROGRESS.    A  Sequel  to 
the  Anxious  Inquirer.     ISmo,  cloth,  31c. 

iStS"  one  of  the  best  and  most  useful  works  of 
this  popular  author. 


THE  CHURCH   IN   EARNEST.     Seventh  thousand.     18mo,  cloth,  40  cents 

MOTHERS  OF  THE  WISE  AND  GOOD. 

By  JABE2  BuR^'S,  D.  D.    16mo,  cloth,  75  cents. 

"We  wish  it  were  in  every  family,  and  read  by  every  mother  in  the  laud.  —  [Lutheran  Observer. 

MY  MOTHER; 

Or,  Recollections  of  Maternal  Influence.      By  a  New  England  Clergyman.     With 
a  beautiful  Frontispiece.    12nio,  cloth,  75  cents. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  charming  books  tliat  have  issued  from  the  press  for  a  long  period.  "  It  is," 
says  a  distinguished  author,  "  one  of  those  rare  pictures  painted  from  life  with  the  exixuisite  skill  of 
one  of  the  '  Old  Masters,'  which  so  seldom  present  themselves  to  the  amateur." 

THE  EXCELLENT  WOMAN. 

With  an  Introduction  by  Rev.  W.  B.  Sprague,  D.D.    Containing  twenty-four  splen- 
did Illustrations.     12mo,  cloth,  $^1.00  ;  cloth,  gilt,  S;1.75  ;  extra  Turkey,  !i?2.50. 

©3-  This  elegant  volume  is  an  appropriate  and  valuable  "gift  book"  for  the  husband  to  present  the 
wife,  or  tiie  child  the  mother. 

MEMORIES   OF   A   GRANDMOTHER. 

By  a  Lady  of  Massachusetts.      16mo,  cloth,  50  cents, 

THE  MARRIAGE  RING; 

Or,  How  to  make  Home  Happy.    By  Johx  Angell  James.    Beautiful  illustrated 

edition    16mo,  cloth,  gilt,  75  cents. 

A  beautiful  volume,  and  a  very  suitable  present  to  a  newly-married  couple.—  [N.  Y.  Christian  In- 
telligencer. 

WORKS    BY   AATILLIAM    R.   WILLIAMS,    D.D. 

LECTURES  ON  THE  LORD'S  PRAY'ER 

Third  edition.     12mo,  cloth,  85  cts. 

Their  breadth  of  view,  strength  of  logic,  and 
stirring  eloquence  place  them  among  the  very  best 
homilitical  cffijrts  of  the  age.  Every  page  is  full  of 
suggestions  as  well  as  eloquence.—  Cli.  Parlor  ^fag. 

MISCELLANIES.     New  improved  edi- 
tion.    Price  reduced.    12mo,  if?!. 25. 

(7) 


RELIGIOUS  PROGRESS  ;  Discourse? 
on  the  Development  of  the  Christian 
Character.    12mo,  cloth,  85  cts. 

This  work  is  from  the  pen  of  one  of  the  bright- 
est lights  of  the  American  pulpit.  AVe  scarcely 
know  of  any  Uving  writer  who  has  a  finer  com- 
mand of  powerful  thought  and  glowing,  impres- 
sive language  than  he.  — [Dk.  Si-kague,  Alb.  Atl. 


VALUABLE  WORKS  PUBLISHED  BY  GOULD  &  LIKCOLN,  BOSTON 


THE   CHUISE   OF  THE  NORTH  STAH ; 

A  Narrative  of  the  Excursion  of  Mr.  Vandcrbilf  s  Party,  in  her  Voyage  to  England, 
llussia,  Denmark,  France,  Spain,  Italy,  Malta,  Turkey,  Madeira,  etc.  By  Eev. 
John  Ovkutox  Choules,  1).  D.  With  elegant  Illustrations,  etc.  12mo,  cloth, 
gilt  back  and  sides,  $1.50. 

VISITS  TO  EUROPEAN   CELEBRITIES. 

By  the  Key.  William  B.  Sprague,  D.D.    12mo,  cloth,  $1.00. 

A  Berios  of  graphic  and  life-like  Personal  Sketches  of  many  of  the  most  distinguished  men  and 
■women  of  Europe,  with  whom  the  author  became  acquainted  in  tlie  course  of  several  European  tours, 
where  he  saw  them  in  their  own  homes  and  under  the  most  advantageous  circumstances.  "  It  was  my 
uniform  custom,  after  every  such  interview,  to  take  copious  memoranda  of  the  conversation,  includ- 
ing an  account  of  the  individual's  appearance  and  manners  ;  in  short,  defining,  as  Avcll  as  I  could, 
the  whole  impression  which  his  physical,  intellectual,  and  moral  man  had  made  upon  me."  From 
the  memoranda  thus  made,  the  material  for  the  present  instructive  and  exceedingly  interesting 
volume  is  derived.  Besides  these  "pen  and  ink "  sketches,  the  woric  contains  the  novel  attraction 
of  a  FAC  SIMILE  OF  TUE  siG>rATUEE  of  each  of  the  iJersons  introduced. 

PILGRIMAGE  TO   EGYPT;    EXPLORATIONS   OF  THE  NILE. 

With  Observations,  illustrative  of  the  Manners,  Customs,  etc.  By  Hi)n.  J.  V.  C. 
Smith,  M,  D.    With  numerous  elegant  Engravings.    12mo,  cloth,  $1.25. 

THE   STORY  OF  THE   CAMPAIGN. 

A  complete  Narrative  of  the  War  in  Southern  Eussia.  Written  in  a  Tent  in 
the  Crimea.  By  3Iajor  E.  Bruck  IIamley,  author  of  '-Lady  Lee's  Widowhood." 
With  a  new  anil  complete  31ap  of  the  Seat  of  AVar.    12ino,  paper  covers,  37^  cts. 

POETICAL    WOKKS. 

MILTON-S  rOETICAL  WORKS.    With  1  POETICAL  WORKS  OF  SIR  WALTER 

Life  and  Elegant  Illustrations.     16mo,      SCOTT.  With  Life,  and  Illustrations  on 
cloth,  81.00;  tine  cloth,  gilt,  81-25.  |     Steel.    16mo,  cl.,  81 ;  fine  cl.,  gilt>  81.25. 

COMPLETE  POETICAL  WORKS  OF  WILLIAM  COWPER.  With  a  Life,  and 
Critical  Notices  of  his  Writings.  With  new  and  elegant  Illustrations  on  Steel. 
16mo,  cloth,  81.00;  fine  cloth,  gilt,  .81-25. 

G3~  The  above  Poetical  Works,  by  standard  authors,  are  all  of  imiform  size  and  style,  printed  on 
fine  paper,  from  clear,  distinct  type,  with  new  and  elegant  illustrations,  richly  bound  in  full  gilt,  and 
plain  ;  thus  rendering  them,  in  connection  with  the  exceedingly  low  piuce  at  which  they  are 
offered,  the  cheapest  and  most  desirable  of  any  of  the  numerous  editions  of  these  author's  works  now 
in  the  market. 

LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF  JOHN  FOSTER. 

Edited  by  J.  E.  Rylats^d,  with  Notices  of  Mr.  Foster  as  a  Preacher  and  a  Com- 
panion.   By  John  Shkppard.  Two  volumes  in  one,  700  pages.    12mo,  cloth,  81-25. 

In  simplicity  of  language,  in  majesty  of  conception,  in  the  eloquence  of  that  conciseness  which  con- 
veys in  a  short  sentence  more  meaning  than  the  mind  dares  at  once  admit, —  his  writings  are 
unmatched.  —  [North  British  Review. 

GUIDO  AND  JULIUS. 

The  Doctrine  of  Sin  and  the  Propitiator;  or,  the  True  Consecration  of  the  Doubter. 
Exhibited  in  the  Corrt'spondence  of  two  Friends.  By  Frederick  Augustus  O. 
TiiOLUCii,  D.  D.  Translated  by  Jonathan  Edwards  Rylakd.  With  an  Intro- 
duction by  John  Pye  Smith,  D.  D.    IGmo,  cloth,  60  cents. 

NEW  AND  COMPLETE  CONDENSED  CONCORDANCE 

To  the  Holy  Scriptures.  Bv  Alexander  Cruden.  Revised  and  rc-edited  by  Rev. 
David  King,  L.L.  D.    Octavo,  cloth  backs,  81-25;  sheep,  81-50. 

(81 


VALUABLE  WOSKS  PUBLISHED  BY  GOULD  &o  LINCOLN,  BOSTON. 


CYCLOPEDIA  OF  ANECDOTES  OF  LITERATURE  AXD  THE  FIXE  ARTS. 

A  choice  selection  of  Anecdotes  of  the  various  forms  of  Literature,  of  the  Arts,  of 
Architecture,  Eugraviug8,  Music,  I'octrVj  I'aiutiuj?  and  .Sculpture,  and  of  the  most 
celebrated  Literary  Cliaracters  and  Artists  of  dilierent  Countries  and  Ages,  &c. 
Uv  Kazlitt  j\-avi>-E,  A.  31.  With  numerous  Illustrations.  725  pages,  octavo, 
cloth,  S^S.OO. 

This  13  unquestionably  the  choicest  collection  of  axecdotes  ever  published.    It  contains  tiikke 

TIIOUSAXD   AXD   FOUTY  AXECDOTES,  and  lUOrc  tlinn  ONE    HLXDKED  AXD   FIFT 1' IlLUSTUATIOX  S. 

It  is  admirably  adapted  to  literary  and  scicntiQc  men,  to  artists,  mechanics,  and  others,  as  a  I)ic- 
TioxAKV  roK  EEFEitEXCE,  ia  rclatiou  to  fucts  oa  the  uumbcrlcsa  subjects  and  characters  intro- 
duced. 

KITTO'S  POPULAR  CYCLOPIBIA  OF  BIBLICAL  LITERATURE. 

Condensed  from  the  larger  work,  bv  the  author,  Jon:N  Kitto,  D.  D.  Assisted  by 
James  Taylor,  D.  D.     "With  over  oOO  Illustrations.    Octavo,  812  pp.,  cloth,  .^f3.00. 

This  work  answers  the  ptirpose  of  a  commentary,  while  at  the  same  time  it  furnishes  a  complete 
DiCTioxAKY  OF  THE  BiBLE,  embodying  the  products  of  the  best  and  most  recent  rescarclies 
in  biblical  literature,  in.whichtlie  scholars  of  Europe  and  America  have  been  engaged.  It  is  not 
only  intended  for  ministers  and  theological  students,  but  is  also  particularly  adapted  to  parents, 
Sabbatli-school  teachers,  and  the  great  body  of  the  religious  pubhc. 

HISTORY   OF  PALESTINE. 

With  the  Geography  and  Xatural  History  of  the  Country,  the  Customs  and  Institu- 
tions of  the  Hebrews,  etc.  By  John  Kitto,  D.  D.  With  upwards  of  200  Illus- 
trations.   12mo,  clofh,  ^1.25. 

Beyond  all  dispute  this  is  the  best  historical  compendium  of  the  Holy  Land,  from  the  days  of 
Abraham  to  those  of  the  late  Pasha  of  Egypt,  Jlehemet  All.  —  [Edinburgh  Review, 

C©~  In  the  numerous  notices  and  reviews,  the  work  has  been  strongly  recommended,  as  not  only 
admirably  adapted  to  the  family,  but  also  as  a  text-book  for  Sabbath  and  week  day  schools. 

CHAMBERS'S   CYCLOPAEDIA   OF  ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

Two  large  imperial  octavo  volumes  of  1400  pages;  with  upwards  of  300  elegant  Illus- 
trations.    By  Robert  Chambers.    Embossed  cloth,  Sro.OO. 

This  work  embraces  about  Oxe  tiiousaxd  autiioks,  chronologically  arranged  and  classed 
as  Poets,  Historians,  Dramatists,  Philosophers,  Aletaphysicians,  Divines,  etc.,  ■with  choice  selections 
from  their  writings,  connected  by  a  Biographical,  Historical,  and  Critical  Narrative;  thus  presenting 
a  complete  view  of  Englisli  literature  from  the  earliest  to  the  present  time.  Let  the  reader  open 
where  he  will,  he  cannot  fail  to  find  matter  for  profit  and  delight.  The  selections  are  gems  — 
infinite  riches  in  a  little  room  ;  in  the  language  of  aaother,  "  A  whole  Exglish  Libkaky  fused 

DOWX  IXTO  OXE  CHEAP  BOOK  !" 

CHAilBEHS'S  illSCELLANY  OF  TSEEUL  Am  ENTERTAI^^D^G  KNOWLEDGE. ' 
By  William  Chambers.    With  Illustrations.    Ten  vols.,  16mo,  cloth,  87.00. 

CHAMBERS'S  HOME  BOOK  AND  POCKET  MISCELLANY. 

A  choice  Selection  of  Interesting  and  instructive  Reading  for  the  Old  and  the  Young. 
Six  vols.    16mo,  cloth,  $3.00. 

This  work  is  fully  equal,  if  not  superior,  to  cither  of  the  Cliambers's  other  works  in  interest, 
•ontaining  a  vast  fund  of  valuable  information,  furnishing  ample  variety  for  every  class  of  readers. 

CHAilBERS'S  REPOSITORY  OF  IXSTRECTIYE  AND  AiTUSING  PAPERS. 
With  Illustrations.  IGmo,  cloth,  bound.  4  vols,  la  two,  $1.75^  and  4  vols,  in  one,  $1.50. 


IMPORTANT  NEW  WORKS. 

THE   TESTIMONY   OF   THE   ROCKS  :  or,  Geology  in  its  Bearings  on 
the  two  Theologies,  Natural  and  Revealed.    By  Hugh  Miller.    "  Thou  shalt  be 
in  league  with  the  stones  of  the  field."  —  Job.   With  numerous  elegant  illustrations. 
12mo,  cloth,  SI. 25. 
The  completion  of  this  important  work  employed  the  last  hours  of  the  lamented  author,  and  may 

be  considered  his  greatest  and  in  fact  his  life  work. 

MACAULAY  ON  SCOTLAND.  A  Critique.  By  Hugh  Miller, 
Author  of  "  Footprints  of  the  Creator,''  &c.    IGmo,  flexible  cloth,  25c. 

Every  one  who  has  read  Macaulay's  last  volumes  will  remember  in  what  an  unfavoral)Ic  liglit  lie 
has  presented  the  Scottish  character.  In  this  critique  Hugh  Miller  enters  the  lists  in  defence  of 
his  native  country.  He  shows  that  the  distinguished  historian  has  sacrificed  truth  for  the  srd<o  of 
making  a  brilliant  picture,  and  also  gratifying  his  prejudices.  The  charm  of  Hugh  Miller's  style, 
rivalling  that  of  JNlacaulay  himself,  and  his  manifest  superiority  in  knowledge  of  historic  I'acts,  will 
secure  for  this  essay  a  wide  perusal.    It  certainly  presents  Macaulay  iu  a  new  light  as  a  historian. 

When  we  read  JIacaulay's  last  volumes,  we  said  that  they  wanted  nothing  but  the  fiction  to  make 
an  epic  poem  ;  and  now  it  seems  to  be  proved  that  they  are  not  wanting  even  in  that.  His  abuse  of 
t)ic  Scotch  Presbyterians  is  shown  up  according  to  his  deserts,  in  the  little  work  bcfoi'e  us.  The 
truth  is,  that,  through  his  religious  prejudices,  Macaulay  is  incapable  of  understanding  either  the 
Presbyterians  or  the  Puritans,  or  any  otlier  Avho  have  a  spiritual  religion.  —  Pukitan  Recokdeu. 

This  is  a  searching  Critique  upon  the  most  distinguished  living  historian  of  Great  Britain.  The 
name  of  Hugh  Miller  will  create  a  demand  for  it  among  tliose  wlw  are  acquainted  with  his  writings. 

—  PUILA.  CUKISTIAN   ObSEKVEK. 

The  historian  is  handled  with  amasterly  hand  in  its  pages.  —  Dollar  Newspapek. 
It  is  very  sad  to  know  that  such  an  intellect  as  beams  through  these  brilliant  pages  has  been 
quenched  —  for  this  world  —  in  the  waters  of  death.    This  critique  is  sparkling  and  severe,  but  just. 

—  CONOEEGATIOJfALIST. 

He  meets  the  historian  at  the  fountain  head,  tracks  him  through  the  old  pamphlets  and  newspapers 
on  which  he  relied,  and  demonstrates  that  his  own  authorities  are  against  him.  In  the  course  of  the 
discussion,  some  new  facts  in  Macaulay's  personal  history  are  disclosed,  tending  to  set  his  assault  on 
the  Highlanders  in  a  very  unamiablc  light.  The  weight  of  his  character  and  the  well  known  attrac- 
tions of  his  style  will  secure  for  this  tract  a  wide  and  attentive  perusal.  —  Boston  Tkansckipx. 

ESSAYS  IN  BIOGRAPHY  AND  CRITICISM.  By  Peter  3ayne, 
M.  A.,  Author  of  "  The  Christian  Life,  Social  and  Individual."  Arranged  in 
TWO  Skries,  or  Parts.    12mo,  cloth,  each,  f  1.00. 

This  work  is  prepared  by  the  author  exclusively  for  his  American  publishers.    It  includes  eigh- 
teen articles,  viz.: 
PiKST  Series  :—  Thomas  Do  Quincy.  -  Tennyson  and  his  Teachers.  —  Mrs.  Barrett  Browning. 

—  Recent  Aspects  of  British  Art.  —  John  Buskin.  —  Hugh  Miller.  —  The  Modern  Novel ;  Dickens,  &c. 

—  EUis,  Acton,  and  Currcr  Bell.  —  Charles  Kingsley. 

Second  Series  :  -  S.  T.  Coleridge.  —  T.  B.  Macaulay.  —  Alison.  —  "Wellington.  —  Napoleon.  — 
Plato.  -  Characteristics  of  Christian  Civilization.  —  Education  in  the  Nineteenth  Century.  —  The 
Pulpit  and  the  Press. 

LIPE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  JAMES  MONTGOMERY.  Abridged 
from  the  recent  London,  seven  volume  edition.  By  Mrs.  II.  C.  Knight,  Author 
of  '•  Lady  Huntington  and  her  Friends,"  &c.  With  a  fine  likeness  and  an  elegant 
illustrated  title  page  on  steel.    12mo,  cloth,  $1.25. 

This  is  an  original  biography  prepared  from  the  abundant,  but  ill-digested  materials  con- 
tained in  the  seven  octavo  volumes  of  the  London  edition.  The  great  bulk  of  that  work,  together 
with  the  heavy  style  of  its  literary  execution,  must  necessarily  prevent  its  republication  in  this 
country.  At  the  same  time,  the  Christian  public  in  America  will  expect  some  memoir  of  a  poet 
whose  hymns  and  sacred  melodies  have  been  the  delight  of  every  household.  This  work,  it  Is  confi- 
dently hoped,  will  fully  satisfy  tlie  public  desire.  It  is  prepared  by  one  who  has  already  won  distin- 
guished laurels  in  this  department  of  literature.  (x) 


IMPORTANT  WORKS. 

ANALYTICAL  COXCORDANCE  OF  THE  HOLY  SCRIPTURES ; 
or,  The  Bible  presented  under  Distinct  and  Classified  Heads  or  Topics.  By  John 
Eadie,  D.D.,  LL.  D.,  Author  of  "Biblical  CyclopcTdia,"  "Dictionary  of  the 
Bible,"  &c.,  &c.  One  volume,  royal  octavo,  83(3  pp.  Cloth,  ^3.00;  sheep,  $?3.50. 
Just  published. 

The  publishers  would  call  the  special  attention  of  clergymen  and  others  to  some  of  the  peculiar 
features  of  this  great  work. 

1.  It  is  a  concordance  of  snhjccis,  not  of  u-ords.  In  this  it  differs  from  tlie  common  concordance, 
vluch,  of  course,  it  docs  not  supersede.    Both  arc  necessary  to  the  Biblical  student. 

2.  It  embraces  all  the  topics,  both  secvtlar  and  religious,  which  are  naturally  suggested  by  the  entire 
contents  of  the  Bible.  In  this  it  differs  from  Scripture  Manuals  and  Topical  Text-books,  which  arc 
confined  to  religious  or  doctrinal  topics. 

3.  It  contains  tJie  whole  of  the  Bihle  without  ahridgmcnt,  differing  in  no  respect  from  the  Bible  in 
common  use,  except  in  the  classification  of  its  contents. 

4.  It  contains  a  synopsis,  separate  from  the  concordance,  presenting  within  the  compass  of  a  few 
pages  a  bird's-eye  view  of  the  whole  contents. 

5.  It  coEtains  a  table  of  contents,  embracing  nearly  two  thousand  heads,  arranged  in  alphabetical 
order. 

6.  It  is  m'jch  superior  to  the  only  other  work  in  the  language  prepared  on  the  same  general  plan, 
and  is  offered  to  the  public  at  much  less  cost. 

The  purchaser  gets  not  only  a  Concordance,  but  also  a  BPole,  in  this  volume.  The  superior  con- 
venience arising  out  of  this  fact,  —  saving,  as  it  does,  the  necessity  of  having  two  book^  at  hand  and 
of  making  two  references,  instead  of  one,  —  will  be  readily  apparent. 

The  general  subjects  (under  each  of  vhich  there  are  a  vast  number  of  sub-divisions)  are  arranged 
as  follows,  viz. : 

Agriculture,  Genealogj',  Ministers  of  Keligion,    Sacrifice, 

Animals,  God,  Miracles,  Scriptures, 

Architecture,  Heaven,  Occupations,  Speech, 

Army,  Arms,  Idolatry,  Idols,  Ordinances,  Spirits, 

Body,  Jesus  Christ,  Parables  and  Emblems,  Tabernacle  and  Temple, 

Canaan,  Jews,  Persecution,  Vineyard  and  Orchard, 

Covenant,  Laws,  Praise  and  Prayer,  Yisions  and  Dreams, 

Diet  and  Dress,  Jlagistrates,  Prophecy,  War, 

Disease  and  Death,    Man,  Providence,  Water. 

Earth,  Marriage,  Redemption, 

Family,  Metals  and  Jlinerals,  Sabbaths  and  Holy  Days, 

That  such  a  work  as  this  is  of  exceeding  great  convenience  is  matter  of  obvious  remark.  But  it 
is  much  more  than  that ;  it  is  also  an  instructive  work.  It  is  adapted  not  only  to  assist  the  student 
in  prosecuting  the  investigation  of  preconceived  ideas,  but  also  to  impart  ideas  which  the  most  care- 
ful reading  of  the  Bible  in  its  ordinary  arrangement  might  not  suggest.  Let  him  take  up  any  one  of 
the  subjects —  "  Agriculture,"  for  example  — and  see  if  such  be  not  the  case.  This  feature  places 
the  work  in  a  higher  grade  than  that  of  tli.e  common  Concordance.  It  shows  it  to  be,  so  to  speak,  a 
work  of  more  mind. 

No  Biblical  student  would  willingly  dispense  with  this  Concordance  when  once  possessed.  It  is 
adapted  to  the  necessities  of  all  classes,  —  clergymen  and  theological  students;  Sabbath-school 
superintendents  and  teachers;  authors  engaged  in  the  composition  of  religioiis  and  even  secular 
works;  and,  in  fine,  common  readers  of  the  Bible,  intent  only  on  their  own  improvement. 

A  COMMENTARY  ON  THE  ORIGINAL  TEXT  OF  THE  ACTS 
OF  THE  ABOSTLES.  By  Horatio  B.  Hackett.  D.  D.,  Professor  of  Biblical  Liter- 
ature and  Interpretation,  in  the  Newton  Theological  Institution.  K7="A  new, 
revised,  and  enlarged  edition.    Li  Press. 

t(M~  This  most  important  and  very  popular  work,  has  been  throughly  revised  (some  parts  being 
entirely  rewritten),  and  considerably  enlarged  by  the  introduction  of  important  new  matter,  the 
result  of  the  Author's  continued,  laborious  investigations  since  the  publication  of  tlie  first  edition, 
aided  by  the  more  recent  published  criticisms  on  this  portion  of  the  Divine  Word,  by  other  distin- 
guislied  Biblical  Scholars,  in  this  country  and  in  Europe.  (y) 


MODERN    ATHEISM. 

MODEEN  ATHEIS:M,  xinder  its  Forms  of  Pantheism,  ISIaterialism,  Secu- 
larism, Development,  and  Natural  Laws.  By  James  Buchanan,  D.D  ,  LL.D. 
12mo,  cloth,  S1.25. 

The  Author  of  this  work  is  the  successor  of  Dr.  Chalmers  in  the  Chair  of  Divinity  in  the  New- 
College,  Edinburgh,  and  the  intellectual  leader  of  the  Scottish  Fi-ee  Church. 

Prom  IIuou  Miller,  Author  of  "  Old  Red  Sandstone,"  &c.,  &c.  — The  work  before  us  Is 
one  of  at  once  the  most  readable  and  solid  which  we  have  ever  perused. 

From  the  "  News  of  the  Churches."  —  It  is  a  work  of  which  nothing  less  can  be  said,  than 
that,  both  in  spirit  and  substance,  style  and  argument,  it  fixes  irreversibly  the  name  of  the  author 
as  a  leading  classic  in  the  Christian  literature  of  Britain. 

From  IIoward  Malcom,  D.  D.,  President  of  Lewisburg  University.  — No  work  has 
come  into  my  hands,  for  a  long  time,  so  helpful  to  me  as  a  teacher  of  metaphysics  and  morals. 
I  know  of  nothing  which  will  answer  for  a  substitute.  The  public  specially  needs  such  a  book  at 
this  time,  when  the  covert  atheism  of  Fichte,  "Wolfe,  Ilegel,  Kant,  Schelling,  D'llolbach,  Comte, 
Crousse,  Atkinson,  Martineau,  Leroux,  Mackay,  Ilolyoako,  and  others,  is  being  spread  abroad  with 
all  earnestness,  supported,  at  least  in  some  places,  both  by  church  influence  and  university  honors. 
I  cannot  but  hope  that  a  work  so  timely,  scholarly,  and  complete,  will  do  much  good. 

It  is  one  of  the  most  solid  and  remarkable  books  in  Its  department  of  literature;  one  of  the  most 
scholarly  and  profound  productions  of  modern  Christian  literature.  —  Worcester  Transcript. 

Dr.  Buchanan  has  earned  a  high  and  well-deserved  reputation  as  a  classical  writer  and  close  logi- 
cal reasoner.  lie  deals  heav}%  deadly  blows  on  atheism  in  all  its  various  forms  ;  and  wherever  the 
work  is  read  it  cannot  fail  to  do  good.  —  Christian  Secretary. 

It  is  a  work  which  places  its  author  at  once  in  the  highest  rank  of  modern  religious  authors.  His 
analyses  of  the  doctrines  held  by  the  various  schools  of  modern  atheism  are  admirable,  and  his 
criticism  original  and  profound  ;  while  his  arguments  in  defence  of  the  Christian  fiiith  are  powerful 
and  convincing.  It  is  an  attractive  as  well  as  a  solid  book  ;  and  he  who  peruses  a  few  of  its  pages  is, 
as  it  were,  irresistibly  drawn  on  to  a  thorough  reading  of  the  book.—  Boston  Portfolio. 

The  style  is  very  felicitous,  and  the  reasoning  clear  and  cogent.  The  opposing  theories  are  fairly 
stated  and  combated  with  remarkable  ease  and  skill.  Even  when  the  argument  falls  within  the 
range  of  science,  it  is  so  happily  stated  that  no  intelligent  reader  can  fail  to  understand  ii.  Such  a 
profound,  dispassionate  work  is  particularly  called  for  at  the  present  time.— Boston  Journal. 

It  is  justly  described  as  "a  great  argument,"  "  magnificent  in  its  strength,  order,  and  beauty,"  in 
defence  of  truth,  and  against  the  A'ariant  theories  of  atheism.  It  reviews  the  doctrines  of  the  dif- 
ferent schools  of  modern  Atheism,  gives  a  fair  statement  of  their  theories,  answers  and  refutes  them, 
never  evading,  but  meeting  and  crushing  their  arguments.  —  Puila.  Christian  Observer. 

Dr.  Buchanan  is  candid  and  impartial,  too,  as  so  strong  a  man  can  aflfbrd  to  be,  evades  no  argument, 
undertakes  no  opposing  view,  but  meets  his  antagonists  with  the  quiet  and  unswerving  confidence 
of  a  locomotive  on  iron  tracks,  pretty  sure  to  crush  them.  —  Christian  Eegister. 

We  hail  this  production  of  a  master  mind  as  a  lucid,  vigorous,  discriminating,  and  satisfactory 
refutation  of  the  various  false  philosophies  which  have  appeared  in  modern  times  to  allure  ingenu- 
ous youth  to  their  destruction.  Dr.  Buchanan  has  studied  them  thoroughly,  weighed  them  dispas- 
sionately, and  exposed  their  falsity  and  emptiness.  Ills  refutation  is  a  clear  stream  of  light  from 
beginning  toend.  —  Phila.  Presbyterian. 

We  recommend  "  Modern  Atheism  "  as  a  book  for  the  times,  and  as  having  special  claims  on 
theological  students. —  Universalist  Quarterly. 

It  is  remarkable  for  the  clearness  with  which  it  apprehends  and  the  fairness  with  which  it  states, 
not  less  than  for  the  ability  with  which  it  replies  to,  the  schemes  of  unbelief  in  its  various  modern 
forms.  It  will  be  found  easy  to  read— though  not  light  reading  — and  very  quickening  to  thouglit, 
while  it  clears  away,  one  by  one,  the  mists  which  the  Devil  has  conjured  around  the  great  doctrines 
of  our  Faith,  by  the  help  of  some  of  his  ingenious  modern  coadjutors,  and  leaves  the  truth  of  God 
standing  in  its  serene  and  pristine  majesty,  as  if  the  breath  of  hatred  never  had  been  breatlied  forth 
against  it.  —  Congregationalist. 

Dr.  Buchanan  has  here  gone  into  the  enemy's  camp,  and  defeated  him  on  his  own  ground. 
The  work  is  a  masterly  defence  of  faith  against  dogmatic  unbelief  on  the  one  hand,  and  that  uni- 
versal skepticism  on  the  other,  which  neither  affirms  nor  denies,  on  the  ground  of  an  assumed 
deficiency  of  evidence  as  to  the  reality  of  God  and  religion.  —  N.  Y.  Christian  Chronicle. 

It  is  a  clearly  and  vigorously  written  book.  It  is  particularly  valuable  for  its  clear  statement  and 
masterly  refutation  of  the  Pantheism  of  Spinoza  and  his  School.  —  Christian  IIerald.  (v) 


